


Closed Doors Don't Lie

by RedOrchid



Series: Sliding Doors [2]
Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Alec Is Not A Virgin, Alec Misses Sex, Amnesia, Bad Parent Maryse Lightwood, Bad Parent Robert Lightwood, But no romantic Alec/Jace in the fic itself, Canon Divergence, Canon Fix-It, Coming Out, Downworlder Squad, Episode: s01e04 Raising Hell, M/M, Magnus Is Awesome, Memory Magic, Pansexual!Izzy, Parabatai Bond, References to Past Alec Lightwood/Jace Wayland, Safe Sane and Consensual, Sex Magic, What-If, soulbonds
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-08
Updated: 2017-06-04
Packaged: 2018-08-07 13:04:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 93,456
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7715878
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedOrchid/pseuds/RedOrchid
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When the summoning of the Memory Demon reveals that it's not only Clary's memories that have been meddled with, Alec finds himself being pushed off the path set out for him and onto a different one.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Memory Demon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ***** There is NO romantic jalec in this fic *****
> 
> If you **do** like Jace/Alec, there's a backstory fic to this one called _Between You And Me_ linked as part one of the same series as this fic.
> 
> If you **don't** like Jace/Alec, just skip this backstory; you don't need to have read it for the story.
> 
> Big thank you to fannyT and letswastetimehere for the beta, and to freakypumpkin for title inspiration. <3

Alec is having a terrible day. No, scratch that, Alec is having a terrible _week_ ; from the moment Clary Fray—Fairchild— _whatever_ landed in their laps, Alec’s nicely ordered world has been, almost literally, falling to pieces before his eyes. 

Jace is running around after Clary like a reckless idiot, and while Alec is quite used to Jace going off mission when his instincts tell him it’s the right thing to do, this time is different, and Alec has an increasingly sinking feeling in his stomach that the difference is Clary herself.

It shouldn’t sting as much as it does. Alec has harboured secret feelings for Jace for years, and he knows that they’re hopeless—in addition being completely taboo because of their bond. The obstacles aren’t just high, they’re insurmountable, and _still_ his stupid crush—or whatever it is—just refuses to die. 

And now their group is heading to a Downworlder rave, where they’ll probably end up overpaying a warlock for information that might not even prove to be useful. He tells Izzy as much—well, rants, really—and ends up getting an infuriatingly knowing look in response.

“Feel better now?”

“No, I don’t. Okay,” he relents, as Izzy’s lips curl into a smile, “maybe a little.”

He shoulders his quiver and grabs his bow.

“You can’t keep bottling things up, Alec,” Izzy says. “It’s only a matter of time before they explode. And not the fun kind of explode.”

Alec gives her the most unimpressed look he can manage. It’s not like he doesn’t know that he plays things close to the vest, but it’s also not like he has a choice in the matter. And Izzy knows that. Or she should, at least—his sister has a tendency to be infuriatingly and dangerously optimistic when it comes to what kind of behaviours their world will accept, or even tolerate.

“Alright, let’s go,” he says. “And we’re not going for the music.”

If he’s going to get ribbed for being the stuffy older brother anyway, he might as well own the part.

* * *

Jace and Clary’s negotiations with the warlock are interrupted by a Circle-sent assassin. Alec quickly takes it out, but Magnus Bane is gone through a portal before they have a chance to get all the information they need.

“You know what?” he tells Jace, his frustration spilling over as soon as they get out the door. “This is great. Not only did Magnus not get the girl her memories back, but he took the necklace. This is fantastic—”

Jace immediately comes to Clary’s defense, because of-fucking-course he does, and the exchange turns into a shouting match, which then has Clary defending her own behaviour by going off about her mother, _again_.

“I’m sorry you’re going to look bad in front of your bosses, okay?” she tells him—clearly not sorry in the least—and Alec grits his teeth to keep himself from yelling at her. “People are dying because of me!” 

Alec might have been more sympathetic towards her if the next thing out of her mouth wasn’t how the Warlocks going into hiding from Valentine means she’ll probably never get her memories back.

He very badly wants to punch something, and the feeling only intensifies when Jace’s first attempt at tracking the warlock fails and he waves Alec over for _parabatai_ tracking as though the thought of Alec telling him ‘no’ has never even crossed his mind.

Alec still goes, still lets Jace draw the tracking rune into his palm and clasp their hands together. The rune activates, and Alec holds back a gasp as he feels their _parabatai_ bond activate as well. Jace’s heartbeat moves into synch with his own, their breaths align, and Alec feels _right_ for the first time in days. Jace’s hands are warm in his, and Alec feels a familiar tug in his heart, followed by an irrational feeling that he’s forgotten something important.

“Got him,” Jace says, pulling away and breaking the connection. Alec blinks and looks away, momentarily disoriented.

When they get to the warehouse which is hiding Magnus’ lair, it quickly becomes clear that the Circle beat them there and that a fight is already well underway. Alec launches himself into it, pure relief surging through him at finally being able to _do_ something. 

Fighting is easy—it’s focused and clear, no emotions confusing it or getting in the way. He takes down two Circle members with his bow and moves quickly towards the next room, where something heavy crashing to the floor indicates an ongoing struggle.

As soon as he rounds the corner, he sees a Circle member with a long blade out, eyes fixed on his target and a mocking smirk on his face. Alec nocks an arrow and shoots him in the leg, and before the Circle member is able to get back up, the warlock finishes him off with a quick succession of magical blows.

“Well done,” Alec says, impressed by the force and neatness of the attack.

The warlock in front of him straightens. “More like medium-rare,” he quips, and Alec can’t help but roll his eyes at the terribleness of the joke.

The warlock turns around, sees Alec, and his eyes widen a fraction.

“I’m Magnus,” he says, a friendly smile on his lips as he walks closer. “I don’t think we’ve been formally introduced?”

There’s something about him, an aura of power radiating from him as he moves, a hint of humour in his dark eyes and just—the whole… face—smile— _everything_ , really. It makes Alec start stuttering like an idiot.

He manages to get his name out, and then something about how they should get back out to join the others. He can feel a huge smile on his face all the while, and he’s not actually sure that the words coming out of his mouth are making any sense, but Magnus keeps looking at him, keeps the smile on his lips, and _those eyes_ —Alec finds himself suddenly breathless.

“Right, we should join the party,” Magnus says, finally taking pity on Alec’s inability to form coherent sentences. For some reason, the words sound entirely different when they hit the confused mush that’s currently posing as Alec’s brain, and pictures of the night club they left earlier flashes before his eyes, bodies moving together on the dancefloor, all heat and energy and _touch_.

“Right,” he says, attempting to pull himself together. His eyes meet Magnus’ again, and, _fuck_ , this is bad. This is epically bad.

He looks away quickly and flees from the room.

* * *

Magnus Bane continues to impress. First, he moves his entire lair, with all of them inside, to a new location in a transition so smooth, Alec barely even feels it. And then he gives them back the necklace, gives it to _Izzy_ , as though he just knows how badly she’s been wanting it.

Alec watches the exchange closely, sees Magnus say something quietly to Izzy that makes a surprised smile light up her whole face. As though Magnus can sense someone’s eyes on him, he looks up, finds Alec and sends him a small smile that feels unnervingly intimate.

Jace draws his attention away, giving Alec a decidedly _what-the-fuck?_ kind of look. Alec quickly turns his attention down to the bow he’s holding, gritting his teeth as Magnus and Clary start talking about the Memory Demon. Because apparently that’s a thing they do now—just casually summoning a demon with the help of a warlock and breaking at least thirteen Clave rules in the process. Alec just wants this night to end.

“Pretty boy, get your team ready,” Magnus says, and Alec feels an irrational sting at the words. He’s used to Jace and Izzy pulling all the attention in a room, and he’s normally grateful that he’s not the one people’s glances linger on. For some reason, it feels different this time, and when Jace rolls his eyes and starts moving forward, telling Alec, “You know what to do,” Alec kind of wants to put out his foot and trip him.

What Magnus does next surprises all of them.

“I’m not talking to you,” he says, holding out an arm to stop Jace in his tracks. He pushes Jace back to his place and turns to point at Alec. “I’m talking to _you_.”

Alec does his best not to let the shock he feels show on his face. Magnus smiles at him, and Alec suddenly feels inexplicably _warm_. Magnus clearly just established who he considers the leader to be among them, and the acknowledgement feels good—better than good, to be honest. Alec finds himself standing up a little taller, smiling back at Magnus until Jace throws him an incredulous look and he has to turn the smile into a shrug.

Jace narrows his eyes and crosses his arms, as though he can tell that there are things that Alec’s not telling him. Fortunately, Alec has years of experience not telling Jace things—and in this particular case, Clary actually turns out to be a useful distraction; Jace is so focused on her that he forgets all about needling Alec as soon as she and Magnus leave the room.

Alec watches him go, a familiar sting of rejection in his chest. This time there’s another feeling accompanying it though: something that feels a lot like apathy and a bit like relief.

Alec shakes his head to clear it; the current chaos surrounding him is clearly starting to play games with his mind.

* * *

“So, what’s a nice Shadowhunter like yourself doing in a place like this?” Magnus asks him as they stand around the living room, waiting for Jace and Clary to finish… whatever they’re preparing behind the closed doors of Magnus’s magic room. 

Alec hears Izzy snort and sends her a quick death glare over Magnus’ shoulder. Then he turns his attention to Magnus, who is looking at him the same way he was when they first met: like Alec is something new and utterly fascinating.

“Nothing much, yet,” Alec replies, going for the same dry tone he normally uses with Izzy and Jace. For some reason, with Magnus in front of him, it comes out sounding… quite different somehow.

“I could change that,” Magnus says, giving Alec a very unsubtle once-over and raising an eyebrow at the end, clearly communicating that he likes what he saw. Alec feels himself blush and quickly ducks his head, mortified by his own reaction. Something about Mangus’ gaze makes him feel bold, though, and so he lifts his head again after taking a steadying breath, looks Magnus straight in the eye and doesn’t stop the smile that creeps onto his lips.

Magnus raises the other eyebrow in surprise and his eyes turn darker, the gleam of attraction in them clear. It makes something hot surge up inside Alec, and he suddenly has a flash of a recurring old dream—one where he’s on his knees on his bed, pressing his face into his pillow to muffle the sounds he makes as a warm tongue works its way slowly down his spine. He blinks twice, resolutely pushing the memory of the dream back down, but as he meets Magnus’ eyes again, it’s like something in him has been unlocked, and suddenly he can’t stop thinking about what Magnus’ hands would feel like on his body, the cold metal of his many rings sliding over hot skin.

Magnus must catch him staring, because he starts moving his fingers, drawing graceful little spirals in the air that have Alec utterly mesmerised. Magnus tilts his head, the smile on his face turning into a smirk, and his second and third fingers twist together in a way that makes heat flare in Alec’s gut.

He _knows_ that move—if he closes his eyes, he can practically feel the maddening stretch of it and the urge to push his hips back—and yet, he _can’t_ know it; he’s _never_ allowed himself anything more than quickly rubbing one off in the shower, scared to death that if he were to indulge in anything more… involved, he wouldn’t be able to stop his mind from wandering.

“Are you doing magic on me right now?” he blurts, instinctively taking a step back.

Magnus’ smile falls. “Of course not.” As Alec continues to draw back, his expression turns from affronted to concerned. “Alec, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Alec says quickly, taking a steadying breath and forcing himself to uncross his arms. “Sorry, my mind just—ran away with me for a second. I’m fine.”

“If you say so,” Magnus replies, making it clear that he’s finding the line less than believable. “If you’ll excuse me, I need to go check on Miss Fairchild. See that she’s doing alright with the pentagram and everything.”

He moves away from Alec and slips through the door to his magic room. Alec is left staring after him—that is, until Izzy walks up to him and takes him by the arm, leading him over to Magnus’ couch.

“What happened?” she asks, keeping her voice quiet enough to stop it from carrying into the next room. “One minute the two of you are flirting like crazy, and then, suddenly, you’re all hedgehog-y. What gives?”

“Nothing happened,” Alec tries, even though he already knows Izzy isn’t going to buy it. “And we weren’t _flirting_ , we were just talking.”

“Right, because a casual conversation always makes you look all hot and bothered,” Izzy says. “Alec, it’s okay if you like him, you can—”

“I can what?” Alec interrupts. “Have a future with him? Introduce him to our parents? Marry him in front of the Clave? Please, even you know better than that.”

“I was going to say ‘ask him out for a drink’,” Izzy replies. “Jeez, Alec, it’s not the Victorian era, you know. You don’t have to marry someone to have a good time with them.”

Alec wishes things were that easy, he really does. Unfortunately, while Jace and Izzy run around ‘following their hearts’ or whatever they like to call it, it falls to Alec to keep up appearances. Normally, Alec doesn’t even resent them for it—he’s quite happy with the role he’s been given; it’s clear-cut and safe—but right now, he has an irrational urge to just say ‘fuck it’ and leave Izzy and Jace to clean up the mess they’ve made for once in their lives.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” he says instead. “Let’s go get this summoning over with, shall we?”

Izzy looks like she wants to argue for a moment, but then she nods instead and holds out a hand. “After you, big brother.”

* * *

“The demon’s name is Valak,” Magnus says. “And at some point, he’ll ask for payment in exchange for Clary’s memories.”

“What do you mean? What kind of payment?” Jace asks, to which Magnus just shrugs.

“We will see,” he replies. “Let us begin.”

His hand is warm, a steadying presence that helps alleviate Alec’s apprehension somewhat. Summoning a demon goes against everything he’s been taught, and he can’t push back the feeling that it’s all going to go terribly wrong. The pentagram on the floor is intimidating in and by itself, and the fact that Clary apparently drew it perfectly on the first try is not helping the little voice at the back of Alec’s head that keeps repeating that she’s Valentine’s daughter and potentially dangerous.

Magnus starts chanting in a language Alec doesn’t recognise, and shortly after, the pentagram on the floor lights up and black smoke starts forming, creating a deafening vortex.

“Valak is among us!” Magnus shouts over the sound of rushing wind “Do not break the bond!”

The vortex moves faster, and Alec can tell that Clary is struggling to hold on, sees Jace call out to her and tightening his grip on her hand.

“It’s time, the demon demands payment!” Magnus exclaims, and then his eyes widen. He turns from Clary to Jace and then to Alec with anger written all over his face. “Why didn’t you tell me Clary wasn’t the only one whose memories had been taken?” he demands. “This changes the entire setup of the ritual! How could you be so arrogant?”

Alec quickly looks around the circle and sees Jace, Izzy and Clary’s faces mirror the same shock he’s feeling. Magnus does the same, looking at each of them with a calculating gleam in his eyes, and then groans loudly.

“You don’t know your memories have been erased,” he says—a statement, not a question. “Of course you don’t. Well, this makes things a lot more complicated.”

“What do you mean?” Jace demands. “Whose memories?”

Magnus looks up at him. “The demon asked whose memories were being bargained for,” he replies. “Clary’s, yours or _yours_ ,” he says, turning to Alec at the end.

Alec turns his head and looks at Jace, confusion and panic building inside him.

“That’s not possible,” Jace exclaims, mirroring Alec’s own thoughts. “We’d know if someone had taken our memories? Right? I mean, we’d have to know!”

“Not if the one who took them knew what they were doing,” Magnus replies. “We’ll have to get back to that later, however; Valak is getting impatient, and believe me when I say that you don’t want to keep a Greater Demon waiting. Hold on tight, everyone!”

The swirling of the black vortex intensifies, and the wind is so strong, even Alec has to fight to keep his hold on the people on either side of him.

“We must each relinquish a memory of the person we love the most!” Magnus shouts. “I’m letting you know now, this is not going to be pretty. I don’t know what other memories Valak has been given, but believe me when I say that he’ll try to use them in any way he can to make one of us break the circle and set him free! No matter what you’ve done in the past, no matter what dark secret is hidden away in the back of your minds, _don’t let him use it_. Do. Not. Break. The. Bond!”

There’s a gust of wind, and Izzy’s head snaps back, an image of Alec smiling showing up in the centre of the vortex. Clary is next, a picture of a woman Alec supposes is her mom floating in front of them before it’s gone again. Alec feels the demon grabbing at him next, and his eyes widen as he sees Jace’s face appear in the black smoke.

It’s not even a real memory. Alec recognises the scene instantly as one of the guilty dreams he’s been trying to suppress for years: Jace looking back at him with a smile on his lips and the haze of pleasure still clouding his eyes.

Alec turns his head to the real Jace instinctively, and is faced with an expression of pure shock. Alec’s heart beats too fast in his chest, and he can’t think of a good explanation, or even any explanation at all. It’s too much; he has to break away—he _has to_ —

“Do not break the bond,” Magnus tells him, looking straight at Alec and sending a spark of magic through to Alec’s hand that settles right next to his heart, slowing it down to a more normal rhythm. “The demon is trying to trick you. Don’t let it!”

Alec swallows hard and manages a nod, gripping both Magnus’ and Jace’s hands a little tighter.

Seconds later, Jace’s memory is pulled, and it’s Alec’s turn to look up in shock, because _he knows that memory_ , but he also doesn’t, because what’s showing up in the black smoke is _not what actually happened_.

It’s Alec’s face, smiling in a way Alec is sure he’s never smiled in his life—with a teasing tilt and clear invitation to it. Which is _so far_ from reality, because that particular memory is from a day when Jace came to Alec’s room to borrow something, happened to walk in on Alec—well— _taking a shower_ , and quickly left, shouting apologies behind him, while Alec died of mortification a hundred times over.

Jace looks shaken to the core, and Alec squeezes his hand, shouting “It’s okay, it’s just trying to trick us!” over the roaring of the wind. Jace squeezes his hand back, a new level of determination shining in his eyes, and once the demon takes the last memory (a warlock with horns, scowling back at them in obvious displeasure), there’s a flash of light, and Clary drops like a ragdoll to the floor, Jace and Isabelle both shouting at her to demand if she’s okay, while struggling to keep their hands connected. 

The vortex disappears, and the pentagram goes back to normal. Magnus lets out a slow breath and smiles at them. 

“Well done, Shadowhunters. You can all let go now.”

Jace is on the floor beside Clary instantly, pulling her head into his lap and stroking her hair out of her face, urging her to wake up.

Alec turns his face away, swallowing hard as he attempts to process what just happened. He doesn’t see a reason for Magnus to be lying about his and Jace’s memories having been erased, but he also can’t fathom _when_ or _how_ that could have happened.

“Come with me,” Magnus says, lightly touching Alec’s forearm to draw his attention, “we can get a headstart on looking into your missing memories while the others look after Clary.”

“That memory the demon took from me,” Alec starts, “it wasn’t true. And the one he took from Jace wasn’t either. Why would he—I just don’t understand.” 

“Let’s discuss it in the living room,” Magnus replies. “I have a feeling we’ll all need a number of stiff drinks before the night is over.”

* * *

“So,” Magnus says, sitting down next to Alec on the couch and handing him a cocktail glass with some kind of clear liquor inside, “tell me about you and Jace.”

Alec can practically feel his shoulders stiffen; he takes a deep breath and forces himself to relax. “There’s nothing to tell. We’re _parabatai_ ; that’s all there is to it.”

“Alexander, it’s okay,” Magnus says softly. “You’ve got nothing to be ashamed of.”

“I have no idea what you mean.”

“Alright,” Magnus replies easily, a hint of a smile on his lips. “We’ll save those questions for when you’re both here and can coordinate your answers. How about you tell me something about yourself in the meantime? Like, how do you feel about Ethiopian food?”

“What? What does that have to do with anything?”

“It doesn’t. I’m just curious.”

“Um, I don’t think I’ve ever had it?” Alec replies, confused. “The Institute cooks mostly stick to simple food like steamed vegetables, fish, meat sometimes. I did have Thai food with Izzy once,” he adds, when Magnus looks back at him as though Alec just told him he lives on nothing but bread and water. “That was good. I don’t know if Ethiopian...is...similar.” 

“Um, no,” Magnus replies, and Alec can tell that he’s holding back a smile. “Thai and Ethiopian are definitely different.”

“Oh.”

“Would you like to try it sometime?” Magnus asks. “Say, Friday night, eight PM?”

Alec narrowly avoids choking on his drink. He looks at Magnus in mild shock, because that sounded like—but it _can’t_ have been.

“Are you asking me out?” he blurts, and then immediately wishes he could sink through the floor, because of course Magnus isn’t, that makes _no_ sense, and— 

“I am,” Magnus replies, raising his glass to his lips and taking a sip from his cocktail. “Are you saying yes?”

“I—but— _why?_ ” Alec manages. “I mean, why me? I’m—” _awkward_ , his brain supplies, _confused, inexperienced,_ “—a Shadowhunter,” he finishes lamely.

“That you are,” Magnus agrees. “And I’m a High Warlock. I protect the Downworld and offer up my magical expertise for a living, you poke at demons with glowing sticks. So, dinner?”

“I don’t ‘poke at demons with sticks’,” Alec protests.

“No?” Magnus asks innocently. “I do hope you’ll consider poking me with one, though.”

“Why would I—” Alec starts, and then he realises what Magnus is implying and feels himself blush hotly. “ _Magnus_ , that’s—”

“An intriguing proposition, despite the awful joke?”

“More like completely inappropriate.”

“Oh, but propriety is so overrated,” Magnus purrs, clearly delighting in the effect his words are having on Alec. “Believe me, I lived through the Victorian era. The more prim and proper the surface, the more interesting the underbelly, in my experience.”

Alec pulls himself together and takes another sip of his drink to have something to do with his hands. If someone had told him only a week ago that he would be sitting in the living room of the High Warlock of Brooklyn, having drinks and being, for all intents and purposes, flirted with, he would have assumed they’d hit their head on something.

And yet… Alec takes another sip and meets Magnus’ eyes. Something reckless inside of him wants to reach out, wants to say ‘fuck it’ to what he _should_ feel, and do, and want, and instead just… go for something he might _actually_ want.

He can feel his pulse speed up. The open interest in Magnus’ eyes makes heat spark in his gut, grounding and ethereal all at once. There’s a boldness in the way Magnus is looking at him that makes Alec feel _seen_ , not to mention a great deal more attractive than usual.

Alec clears his throat. “Dinner sounds fun.”

Magnus’ face splits into a wide, happy grin. “Excellent! Tell me if you’d rather do something else though. If you’re more of a theatre man, there’s a lovely new play on Broadway that I’ve been meaning to see. Or there’s always the option of staying in—food, drinks, some Netflix and chill …” He leans forward a little, gesturing for Alec to do the same so that Magnus gets close enough to be able to speak quietly into his ear, “I couldn’t help but notice the way you were looking at my hands earlier. Call me shallow, but I do love a man who knows what he wants and likes in bed.”

The words are clearly meant to be a compliment and a continuation of their flirting, but they end up having quite the opposite effect. Alec jerks back, spilling what’s left of his drink over both of them.

“Shit! Sorry, sorry. Hang on, are there napkins around here somewhere? Here, let me—”

“Don’t worry about it,” Magnus says. He waves his hand, and the stains on their clothes are gone in a flash of blue magic. Then he looks up at Alec, concern clear in his eyes. “I’m the one who should apologise. I clearly came on too strongly just now.”

“No, it’s not that,” Alec says, taking a slow breath to centre himself as he sits back down on the couch. “It’s just—I’m not used to… people being that open, I guess. It’s, um, a bit of an adjustment.”

“Ah,” Magnus replies, a knowing glint in his eyes. “Say no more. It can be our little secret.”

“What?” Alec says, completely thrown. Then a horrible thought hits him, and everything from their conversation suddenly makes perfect sense.

Alec can’t believe he almost let himself fall for it, almost let himself be tricked into handing over power of what could easily ruin his entire career to a warlock he just met—and for what? Because he let attraction run away with him?

He stands up from the couch, planning to throw a succinct ‘fuck you’ in Magnus’ face and go back to what he should be doing—which is interrogating Clary about the whereabouts of the Mortal Cup.

Magnus is faster.

“Oo-kay,” he says, springing to his feet as well and looking Alec up and down, holding out his hands in front of him in a calming gesture. “I have no idea what just went through your head, but the way your whole face shut down and you’re now glaring daggers at me can’t mean anything good. So let’s recap, shall we?”

“You’re a manipulative dick,” Alec says. “There, how’s that for a recap?”

Magnus’ eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “That’s a bit of an overreaction to have to a dinner invitation, don’t you think?”

“I don’t like being played,” Alec throws back angrily. “And if you think I’m going to let you blackmail me by—”

“Whoa!” Magnus interrupts. “Blackmail you? Where the hell did _that_ come from?”

“Are you denying it?”

“Okay, we’re clearly spiralling way off track here, so let me spell a few things out for you,” Magnus says evenly. “One,” He holds up a finger between them, “I’m not trying to blackmail you. Two, yes, I would very much like to go out to dinner with you, and three, what I was trying—and apparently failing—to communicate was that I don’t have a problem with you being in the closet. I know what the Clave’s like, and I have no interest in pushing you down a path you’re not ready for, or might not even want to go down at all. _Especially_ not before we’ve even had a chance to get to know each other—that’s all.”

“Oh.” Alec slumps back down on the couch, feeling like the air’s just been let out of his lungs. The implications of Magnus’ words come crashing down on him—the ones that bring relief and excitement getting drowned out by the fact that Magnus has known him for all of—what? An hour? Two?—and already sees right through him.

If Magnus can see it, then other people might too. And that’s a risk Alec just can’t take. 

“I’m sorry,” he says, steeling himself as he turns back to Magnus. “I appreciate the, um, offer. I really do. But things are too complicated right now, and I just—I can’t.”

He expects Magnus to push, or argue with him at the very least. So when he simply smiles at Alec and tells him that it’s okay, Alec is completely stumped.

“You’re not going to try and convince me?”

Magnus looks at him strangely. “Do you _want_ me to convince you? Because you just said you wanted space, and while I do love a challenge, I don’t think you’re actually trying to play hard to get?”

“What? No, I mean—” Alec breaks off and raises a hand to run it through his hair, sighing deeply. “Look, Magnus, I’m sorry I’m such a mess. Things have been crazy for me since Clary showed up, and things with Jace are just…” He trails off, shakes his head. “I’ve no idea why I’m even telling you this.”

“I don’t mind listening,” Magnus tells him. “There’s something about you that intrigues me—well, besides the obvious. You really are exceptionally attractive, if you don’t mind me saying so.”

“I think you have me confused with Jace.”

“Not in the least,” Magnus says simply. He reaches into the pocket of his jacket and pulls out a business card, handing it to Alec with a little flourish.

“Here, my number. In case you change your mind about that dinner. I’m up for it if you are.”

Alec can’t help the smile that spreads on his lips. “Up for it or _up for it_?”

“Oh, I like the way you think,” Magnus replies, winking at him. “Come on, let’s go check what’s keeping the others; we have a lot of work still to do.”

* * *

“I keep telling you, Alec, I don’t know where the Cup is yet,” Clary says, sounding just as frustrated as Alec feels. “I just got a shitload of memories back, and they’re all jumbled, okay? I’m sorry the demon didn’t colour-code and alphabetise them after they were _pulled from my brain by magic_ , but all of you breathing down my neck telling me to ‘come on and think’ isn’t helping!”

“Hey, it’s okay,” Jace says, reaching out to rub little circles on Clary’s back. “Take all the time you need.”

“We’ve been at this for over two hours now, though,” Izzy says. “Maybe it’s time to take a break? Get some sleep? The brain forms the neurological patterns that make up memories when we sleep. I don’t know how magic affects already formed patterns—whether it destroys them completely or just cuts them off somehow—but it’s possible that Clary’s brain needs to rest to be able to properly re-integrate the ones she just got back.”

“Excellent idea,” Magnus says, closing the book he’s been reading and standing up from the divan he’s been lounging on for the past hour or so. “I don’t mean to be rude, but it’s almost morning and I need at least a few hours of beauty sleep before I portal over to the Spiral Labyrinth to deal with the aftermath of the attack tonight. Even magic can only do so much for dark circles under your eyes.”

“Of course,” Alec replies, feeling foolish for not having thought of it earlier. “We’ll pack up and be out of your hair.”

“Now, about going forward with _your_ missing memories,” Magnus says, turning his head to nod to Jace as well, “I’d normally want to set up an official appointment with your Institute, but from what little I’ve been able to observe so far, I believe there’s a not inconsiderable risk that they were the ones who had them removed in the first place.”

“That’s not possible,” Jace says. “Every transaction made by the Institute is put on file. There’s no way someone could have contracted a warlock without the Clave finding out.”

“Who says they didn’t?” Magnus replies. “I’m just saying, that’s what the signs currently point towards.”

“What signs?” Alec demands.

“Two things, really,” Magnus replies. “The fact that you had no idea that any memories were missing tells me that whoever removed them took care to fill in the blanks. In order for those fake memories to be seamless enough not to seem wrong to you or clash with those of other people around you, whoever created them would have had to have access to not only you, but a person close to you whose own memories would be able to serve as a template. When I did work on Clary, I used Jocelyn for that. The second thing is that Alec told me that neither of the memories Valak took from him and Jace match what he knows reality to be—that indicates that not all memories that were replaced were able to be fully extracted, which in turn indicates that it would have been dangerous to do a full extraction—and that usually means that a longer period of time has been meddled with. Longer time period equals more memories equals greater need for accuracy, which takes us back to point one. There’s a third reason as well, but I’d like to speak with Alec and Jace in private for more information.”

Alec feels slightly sick once Magnus has finished talking. The idea that someone at the Institute could have—it makes no sense.

“What other options are there?” Izzy asks, and Alec loves the way his sister is always able to keep a cool head in any situation. “Could the warlock have attacked them?”

“Not likely,” Magnus replies. “As I said, I need more information to get a good picture of what happened, but first off, why? Memory spells are some of the most difficult and fickle pieces of magic you can dabble in and they take loads of energy. There are far simpler ways to attack someone, even a Shadowhunter.”

“Maybe they did it to cover their tracks about something else?”

“Possible, but why make such an effort to create a seamless alternate memory timeline? It would be so much easier to just do a clean wipe and then portal out of the country. Only a couple of warlocks in the Labyrinth could trace the magical signature of a spell like that, and they’re not prone to accepting jobs from the Clave against our own people. A warlock having been contracted to do the spell is a lot more plausible.”

Jace’s eyes narrow. “How do we know you’re not that warlock?” he asks. “I mean, we know you’ve got the chops—you’ve proven it with Clary—you’re local, you’re well-known, and you clearly have a weakness for shiny things. Maybe you were the one who did it. Fits your MO, same memory demon as with Clary, et cetera.”

“Okay, first of all, there are only five memory demons in total, which I’m sure you know,” Magnus says, rolling his eyes. “Valak happens to be the easiest to summon, so he’s pretty much your go-to for choice. And more importantly, if it were me, why in the world would I tell you about it?”

“Magnus has a point,” Alec hears himself say, to which Jace replies with an incredulous look. “I’m just saying. What could he possibly gain from that?”

“I don’t know, our trust?” Jace replies. “Get on our good side so that we’ll help protect him and his kind from Valentine? You’ve warmed to him suspiciously fast, don’t you think, Alec? Did you even stop to think that maybe—”

“You literally brought Clary inside the Institute the same night that you met!” Alec exclaims, the frustration that’s been building over the past few days finally spilling over. “She’s Valentine’s _daughter_ , who showed up of _nowhere_ , and you took one look at her and decided to trust her enough to bring her into our _home_ , and give her weapons, and show her where we sleep! And now you want to lecture _me_? Like I’m not sacrificing things every day just to keep the rest of you safe. You know what, Jace? _Fuck you_. I’m more than just your sidekick—I’m your _parabatai_ , and that’s supposed to mean something, but you…” He takes a deep breath and closes his eyes for a second, trying to will his pulse to calm back down.

“I don’t even know what we are anymore,” he says, fiercely trying to push down the growing tightness in his chest. “Izzy, talk some sense into him if you can? I’m—I can’t be here right now, I’m sorry.”

He walks out of the room, ignoring Jace and Izzy both calling out his name. The tightness in his chest is growing, and he just needs to get out, out, out into the city, where he can run himself ragged and hopefully be able to breathe again. The cold air hitting his face is exactly what he needs, and he closes his eyes as he starts running, letting his awareness rune do the job of making sure he doesn’t run into anyone as he lengthens his stride and lets the rhythmic sounds of his feet hitting the pavement wash out everything else.

He runs all the way back to Manhattan, not stopping until he’s made a good turn of Central Park as well. The sun is just beginning to rise as he slumps down on a bench, sweaty and exhausted and almost feeling like himself again.

He reluctantly pulls his phone out of his pocket, preparing to text Izzy to let her know he’s okay, as well as ignore any messages Jace might have sent him, and does a double take when the first message that pops up in his list is from an unknown number.

He clicks on it and feels his pulse speed up again, for a completely different reason than the anger and resentment he just managed to (mostly) burn off.

 _Isabelle gave me your number,_ it starts. _You have a great ally in her—Jace was barely even standing when she was done laying into him. I secretly took a picture and figured you might enjoy it. Take care, Alexander. xoxo (ps. yes, before you ask, I’m definitely still up for it. ;)) /Magnus_

Alec reads the message several times and then clicks the image placeholder attached to it. A poorly lit snap of Jace and Izzy facing off opens up, Jace holding up his hands defensively in front of him and Izzy looking like she’s about two seconds away from drop-kicking him. Alec feels laughter bubble up inside him, and the last traces of anger and frustration melt away. He looks at the picture again, laughs some more, and then goes back to Magnus’ message, finger hovering over the reply icon.

 _Screw it,_ he thinks, and opens up a message, quickly typing out a reply and pressing ‘send’ before he has a chance to change his mind.

_Thanks for the pic. Let’s do that dinner. Your place, tomorrow night? /Alec_

He watches the screen, excitement and fear warring inside of him as the little icon telling him that his message went through pops up. He stares at the screen for another second and then quickly locks it and shoves the phone back into his pocket.

He starts running again, setting the course back towards the Institute, doing his best to block out the way his phone suddenly feels like it’s burning a hole through the fabric as it bounces against his leg. He resists checking it all the way home, through running a quick routine check of the perimeter and taking a much needed shower before falling into bed.

The phone is lying on his bedside table, face down. Alec debates with himself for all of five seconds before reaching out and grabbing it.

_1 new message, unknown number_

Alec takes a deep, even breath and then clicks it.

_Excellent! I’m busy until 7 and then I need to quickly pop over to Tokyo to pick up something for a friend. Dinner at 9? I’ll cook. You can bring dessert ;) See you then, Alexander. xoxo_

Alec stares at it, swallowing thickly as he reads the message, over and over. A date. He has a date. With a warlock. A male warlock. Jesus fucking Christ, if his parents find out, there will be hell to pay; Alec doesn’t even want to think about it.

He reads the message one more time, unable to stop the wide smile that’s spreading across his face. His heart is beating hard and fast in his chest, and Alec feels _alive_ , like he’s just woken up from a long night’s sleep to a world full of possibilities.

_I really missed this feeling._

The thought pops up in his head from nowhere, and as soon as it’s there, Alec freezes. He hasn’t felt anything like this before—not this… hopeful. He _can’t_ have, because while his feelings for Jace have run across the entire spectrum over the years, the lack of reciprocity always put a damper on them and gave everything a bitter aftertaste.

And still… when Alec closes his eyes and clears his mind, he can almost feel something else there—something sweet and desperate, lurking just out of reach.

He must be going out of his mind. Either that, or the lack of sleep accumulated since Clary’s arrival is making him hallucinate.

Alec puts his phone back on his bedside table, turns off his light and closes his eyes, willing his body to shut down and sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Summary of the Jace/Alec backstory (for ppl who don't like Jalec and/or don't want to read _Between You And Me_ for whatever reason: Alec and Jace hooked up in their teens and were in a secret relationships for about six months. The bond acted up, there was a magical accident, they got caught and Maryse hired a warlock to have their memories removed in order to protect all of them = > this fic starts from the same premise as show!canon, with Alec having had a one-sided crush etc.


	2. Of Men And Angels

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alec and Magnus have their first date, Luke gets bitten by the Alpha, and Izzy and Alec pay a visit to the Seelie realm.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had the worst day at work today, so I'm having fanfic therapy by finishing up and posting this chapter and getting started on the next one. 
> 
> Date night time! Please enjoy. :D

Alec has never in his life been more grateful for the mountain of paperwork clogging up his desk. It means he can legitimately hide out in his office all day, while also doing something actually useful to smooth over the, frankly alarming, number of unsanctioned missions done since Clary arrived. He writes fire messages to important members of the Clave, sucking up where he needs to and asking for future support where he can. It’s calming work, and Alec is good at it—having Jace and Izzy at the Institute has served his diplomatic abilities well, all things considered.

What he has on his hands right now, though, is a lot worse than Jace jumping the gun on taking down a shapeshifter or Izzy being too openly in favour with the Seelies again. As much as neither of them seem to want to realise it, Clary’s arrival is causing a lot of unease among powerful Clave members, and that is going to translate into sanctions for the Institute sooner rather than later, unless Alec can find a way to appease and reassure them. The last thing he needs right now is his parents coming back from Idris and taking over operations.

Transparency (or, the appearance of it, at least) is key, so he writes out a detailed account of Clary’s movements over the past few days, adding times, places, the rationale behind each mission—burying things that need to be glossed over with facts, facts, and yet more facts. The mission to Hotel DuMort to rescue Simon proves tricky (there were really too many rules broken on that one), but the fact that the vampires kidnapped him and tried to used him as leverage for the Mortal Cup should be enough to push the buttons of whoever is reading, especially with older, more traditional officials. He modifies the mission to go see Magnus as well, playing up the attack from the Circle and using the urgent need to gather more information about them as justification for approving the summoning to restore Clary’s memories.

When he’s done with his work, Clary in the report reads like the child she is—emotion-driven and reckless—but also as someone who is under tight Institute control. Alec signs the report and sends it off with a flourish of his stele. There, at least some damage control has been done.

There’s a knock on his door, and Izzy pops her head in. “Is this a bad time?”

“No, I just finished,” Alec replies. “Well, with one thing. There’s still that pile. And that one. And the one over there. I don’t suppose your allergy to paperwork has improved any?”

To his surprise, Izzy laughs and sits down in a chair opposite him. “Here, give me one. I’ll help you out.”

Alec narrows his eyes suspiciously. “What do you want?”

“Why would you think I want anything?” Izzy says innocently, which only confirms Alec’s suspicions. “Can’t I just want to do something nice for my big brother?”

“Your definition of doing something nice for me includes buying me new clothes a size too small and in colours that I’d never wear, not completing the monthly inventory,” Alec replies. “What favour do you need?”

“Okay,” Izzy says, putting the folder she reached for back on the desk again. “Actually, I wanted to talk to you about what happened at Magnus’. With Jace and the demon.”

“Nothing to talk about,” Alec tells her, taking care to keep his face impassive. “We went to get Clary’s memories back, and we did. Mission accomplished. How is she, by the way? Does she remember anything new? I imagine the Clave will want to interview her as soon as possible.”

“She was still sleeping when I checked before coming here,” Izzy replies. “That spell was tough on her; her brain needs rest.”

“Alright. Let me know as soon as she wakes up.”

“Alec, I know you don’t want to talk about this,” Izzy says. “And normally, I wouldn’t push you—tease a little, prod a little, yes, but not more than that—but you’re the one who always says that we need to put aside our emotions and look at the facts, assess the risks, so I have to ask you: did anything happen between you and Jace?”

“Nope,” Alec says shortly, pulling a new folder from the pile and spreading its contents in front of him. “Was that all, or...?”

“Alec, the demon pulled him as the person you love the most. And then he pulled you from Jace in return. And those memories, they—” 

“So what if it did?” Alec interrupts her. “Yours was me too. Clary’s was her mom. Same thing.”

“Yeah, but _my_ version of you didn’t look back at me as though I’d just sucked his brain out through his dick,” Izzy says, and then looks promptly horrified. “And _ew_ that is an image I’ll never be able to bleach from my brain. Ew! Ewewewewew.”

“Serves you right,” Alec replies, crossing his arms. “Just drop it, Izzy, will you?”

“No, I’m just going to just drop it!” Izzy protests, and then her face grows serious, and she reaches out and pulls at Alec’s sleeve to get him to lean in a little closer. “Alec, if there _is_ something going on, you need to tell me. I can’t help you if I don’t know what’s going on.”

“I don’t need your help,” Alec counters. “Not with this,” he adds, when a clear flash of hurt crosses Izzy’s face. “And I promise you, nothing is going on. Jace wouldn’t—I don’t know where those so-called memories came from, but they weren’t real. Neither of the things the demon pulled actually happened.”

Izzy looks at him for a long time and then sighs. “Okay, I believe you. Just—I love you, and I’ll always have your back, no matter what. You know that, right?”

“Yeah,” Alec replies, a small smile touching the corner of his lips. “I really do have work to do, though, so if you actually want to help…”

“Fine, hand me that file,” Izzy says. “I promised Jace I’d stay here and watch Clary anyway.”

“What? Why?” Alec asks, looking up. “Where did he go?”

“Before you and Magnus came back and joined us last night, Clary said something about a box that Jocelyn said belonged to her father. Jace went back to their apartment to find it, see if it can bring us any clues.”

“He should have cleared that with me before he went. Damn it, Izzy! We’re under scrutiny as it is. A few more of these spontaneous little missions and we could lose everything— _including_ any chance we have to actually help Clary find Jocelyn. You know what the Clave is like; they don’t give a shit about what your intentions were, only what actions you took. The Law—”

“The Law is the Law,” Izzy fills in. “Yeah, I know. But sometimes the Law is stupid.”

“It doesn’t matter, it’s _still the Law_ ,” Alec says, gritting his teeth. “Just—promise me you’ll help keep things at least somewhat under control so that we have some plausible deniability? Please? I know Clary isn’t going to stop, and Jace has clearly lost all sense where she’s involved, so I’m begging you, Izzy. We can still help her, but we _have_ to be smarter about it.”

“Okay,” Izzy replies. “ _Okay,_ Alec, I’ll talk to her. And Jace.”

“Thank you,” Alec says, his shoulders slumping slightly in relief. “Now, we should—”

A flash of flames in the air between them cuts him short. A letter emerges from the fire, and Alec quickly reaches out to grab it.

“It’s from Aline Penhallow,” he says, once he’s read it through. “She’s been keeping me informed about what happens in Idris. She writes that the Seelies have just broken all contact with the Clave and refuse to say why. Some think they’re offended that the Clave asked them to send scouts after Valentine. Others think they’re carefully positioning themselves for an upcoming war.”

He looks up at Izzy and sees his own concern mirrored in her face. “Izzy, this is not good. If the Seelies side with Valentine, then…” He leaves the sentence hanging, the implications clear to both of them.

“I’ll go see Meliorn right away,” Izzy replies. “The Seelies might not be talking to the Clave, but I’m pretty sure he’ll still talk to me.”

“Yeah, good idea,” Alec says, folding the letter up carefully before taking his stele to it and turning it to ash. “Be as quick as you can? And please be careful, and discreet.”

“Didn’t people tell you, I’m just a silly girl who falls for the wrong men?” Izzy tells him, a conspiratorial smile on her face. “Show enough skin, put on a bright smile, and most people are too distracted to even consider you might have a brain and a purpose to go with it all.”

“Are you saying I should take note?”

“Nah,” Izzy replies. “The stoic, predictable thing is working well for you. Lulls people into a false sense of security. You could probably break a hundred rules and not get caught if you set your mind to it.”

Alec snorts. “Good to know. Now get out of here.”

“Are you planning on breaking any rules soon?” Izzy asks slyly. “I gave Magnus your number, you know. He might call.”

“What if I told you he already did?”

Izzy’s eyes widen, and a huge grin lights up her face. “ _He did?_ Oh my God, tell me!”

“Well, actually, he texted,” Alec says, hugely enjoying the way he’s making Izzy squirm in anticipation. If he had any doubts of her support before, they’d definitely be gone now. “We, um—I’m going over to his place tonight. For dinner.” 

“That’s great!” She moves around the desk and wraps her arms tightly and unexpectedly around his neck. “Oh, Alec, I’m so proud of you! And happy! Oh my God, you need… hang on.” Her hands go to the hem of her tight dress, fiddling with something at the holster Alec knows she keeps at her thigh.

“Here,” she says, straightening up and slipping something into Alec’s back pocket with a bright smile. “Just in case.”

She winks at him and heads for the door. “Have a great time, big brother.”

Alec gapes after her and reaches into his pocket, pulling out Izzy’s gift and blushing furiously when discovering that it’s a three-pack of condoms.

He feels an urge to hit his head against his desk repeatedly, but decides to just take a deep breath and pretend his baby sister didn’t just give him her blessing to go out and get laid. He’s just going over to Magnus’ for dinner; they haven’t even known each other twenty-four hours, and the idea that they might… Alec drops his face into his hands and groans, images of Magnus’ hands, his smile, the teasing glint in his eyes, rushing through his mind.

He puts the condoms back in his pocket and then studiously goes about his work, doing his best to forget that they’re there, even though he can feel the edges of them whenever he moves.

Whatever. Alec is an adult. Acting Head of an Institute and a consummate professional. He can totally handle this.

* * *

Nine PM has Alec standing outside of Magnus’ apartment, a bag from a nearby bakery in hand, nervously shifting his weight from foot to foot as he tries to gather the courage to ring the doorbell. He almost changed his mind several times on the way over, the terrible risk he’s running outlining itself in in grim detail in his mind in what sounds unsettlingly like his mother’s voice. 

Still, here he is. He takes a deep breath and presses the button.

The buzzer sounds almost immediately, and Alec pulls the front door open and lets himself in. Magnus is waiting for him at the door of his loft when Alec gets up to the right floor, looking devastatingly gorgeous in a burgundy and gold shirt that opens up almost to the waist. 

“Good evening, Alexander,” Magnus says, shifting his stance in a way that makes his shirt part a little further, showing a flash of smooth, tan skin decorated with a number of gold chains. 

Alec swallows and forces himself to look up, meeting Magnus’ dark, smiling eyes. “Hi.”

“I’ll take this,” Magnus says, reaching for the bag in Alec’s hand. “Come on in, darling. Make yourself right at home.”

Alec follows him into the loft, the buzz of excitement he’s felt all afternoon increasing as he steps into Magnus’ living room, where a table for two has been set up against the large windows.

“Dinner smells amazing.”

“I like to impress,” Magnus replies, raising an eyebrow teasingly. “In all sorts of ways.”

Alec feels his heart miss a beat. It’s insane, what he’s feeling, how attracted to Magnus he is after only hours in his company. Alec’s always been good at controlling his impulses, never one to let his emotions run his head, and still—a few words from Magnus completely take his breath away.

It makes him feel… different. Freer. Like a part of him that’s been sleeping has been woken up, desperate to make up for lost time. He walks over to the table and pulls out a chair, gesturing for Magnus to take a seat. “Shall we?”

“My, my, what a gentleman,” Magnus replies teasingly. “I like it.”

“Good,” Alec says impulsively, then blushes when Magnus’s gaze grows more intense. “I mean, you’re welcome.”

“So polite,” Magnus muses. “What will it take to break through that, I wonder?”

“I’m not sure you can,” Alec replies, taking a seat across from Magnus. “I’m always polite.”

“Sounds like a challenge,” Magnus practically purrs, and Alec loses his breath again. “But let’s start with the food, shall we?”

Alec nods and reaches for the bowl nearest to him, suddenly desperate to have something to do with his hands.

“So tell me about yourself, Alexander,” Magnus says, spooning food onto his own plate. “Apart from hunting demons and being extremely attractive, what do you do?”

Alec grins and rolls his eyes. “You really like giving compliments, don’t you?”

“I love it,” Magnus admits easily. “Credit where credit is due, I always say. Now answer the question.”

“Um, I don’t do that much,” Alec replies, taking a first bite of his food. “Oh my God, this is delicious.”

“Why, thank you, I do try,” Magnus says, smiling. “I understand you’re the Acting Head of the Institute when Maryse and Robert are in Idris?”

“Yeah, I’m the eldest,” Alec says. “I like it. It’s a lot of work, but it’s rewarding work, you know? What I do makes a difference. It’s what I’ve been raised to do.”

“I imagine it is,” Magnus replies. “I have to admit, I was very happily surprised by both you and Isabelle last night. You’re… not your typical Lightwoods, let’s just say.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Alec asks, frowning.

“Oh, nothing important,” Magnus says. “Just you know, the two of you coming to the aid of a group of warlocks—kind of ironic when your parents were in the Circle. But I’m glad things have changed, I—”

Alec feels like his heart suddenly dropped to the floor. “My parents were _what?_ ” he asks sharply. “No. It can’t be true. You have to be wrong.”

Magnus looks back at him, and his eyes tell Alec that he’s completely serious. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realise they hadn’t told you.”

“No,” Alec tries, hoping against hope that if he just repeats it enough times, it’ll turn out to be true. “No, it’s not possible.”

“Let’s talk about something else, shall we?” Magnus tries, clearly attempting to lighten the mood. “Tell me about the last book you read. Even Shadowhunters like to read, don’t they?”

“I can’t believe they didn’t tell us,” Alec says, feeling anger rise up inside him. “The _hypocrites_. They pretend that the reason our Institute is being watched so closely by the Clave is because I didn’t file this or that report on time, or because Izzy has friends among the Downworlders, while all this time, it was because they—I can’t believe it.”

“Hey, it was a long time ago now,” Magnus says. “They seem to have cleaned up their act since then. Izzy and you are proof of that.”

“Izzy and I get shit on constantly for being too soft,” Alec replies. “For going against _the natural order of things_.” He grits his teeth and shakes his head, feeling suddenly furious. “You know what? Fuck them. Enough with their bullshit, and enough with their guilt. I’m the Acting Head of the New York Institute, and I can make my own path.”

“Hear, hear!” Magnus says, reaching for a bottle of red wine and pouring a glass for each of them. “To a new era, then.”

“I’ll drink to that,” Alec says, anger still bubbling inside of him as he clinks his glass to Magnus’. Then he takes another bite of his food, and it’s like everything inside him just deflates. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to ruin our date.”

“No, that one was entirely my fault,” Magnus tells him. “And while I’m happily surprised to hear you openly call this a date, I was serious about what I said last night. I understand the difficulty your position presents; feel free to use whatever label you’re comfortable with. Or none at all, if you prefer.”

“Thanks, I—” Alec starts, then thinks, _no_ , and raises his chin to look Magnus straight in the eye. He reaches out across the table, putting his hand in the centre of it, palm up in invitation. “I appreciate what you’re trying to do, but it’s… I’ve been fighting against who I am for a long time, and it’s only made me miserable. Maybe it’s time to try something new.”

It’s Magnus’ turn to be rendered speechless, it seems. Alec gathers his courage and wiggles his fingers. “Magnus, I’d very much like to call this a date, if you do?”

“Yeah,” Magnus manages, his eyes suspiciously bright as he takes Alec’s hand. “I’d like that.”

“Good, then it’s official,” Alec says. “Now tell me more about this food. How did you learn to make it?”

Magnus smiles brightly and launches into a story about himself and a warlock called Ragnor Fell travelling through Africa in the 1800s. It’s captivating and colourful, and Alec feels himself drawn in, his somber mood evaporating to the point where he’s laughing openly at the outrageous adventures Magnus is describing.

They finish their food, and Magnus stands up, reaching for Alec’s plate.

“Here, I’ll help,” Alec says quickly, standing up as well and grabbing a few of the serving bowls. “Where’s your kitchen?”

“Through here,” Magnus tells him. “I was just going to magic these away, though. There’s no need to actually do dishes.”

“I like dishes,” Alec tells him. “They’re calming, and the warm water is nice against your hands. Come on, join me.”

“As you wish,” Magnus replies, following Alec’s lead with an amused smile on his face.

“You don’t have a sink,” Alec says when they arrive.

“I can make one,” Magnus replies, putting the things he’s carrying down on a counter. “I read a lot of interior design magazines; I know what they look like.”

A flash of blue magic later, and Alec is, indeed, standing in front of a beautiful ceramic basin, cut into what appears to be a maple countertop. 

“Alright. Water? And some detergent would be good?”

“Your wish is my command,” Magnus says with a wink, and the next thing Alec knows, the basin is filled to the brim with bubbles.

“Thank you,” Alec says, putting the dishes into the warm water and grabbing a brush that’s similarly appeared out of nowhere. “Now, come here.”

“I can dry?” Magnus suggests, looking mildly apprehensive. “I’ve seen people do it on TV. It looks pretty easy.”

“I can’t believe you’re four hundred or however many years old and you’ve never washed dishes,” Alec says, chuckling. “Come on. I promise it won’t kill you.”

Magnus gives him a skeptical look, but does as told. Alec lets him step in front of the sink and watches him carefully remove the rings on either hand before he puts his hands into the water.

“Huh, this _is_ pretty nice,” Magnus says, looking up at Alec over his shoulder. “Like a bubble bath for your hands, kind of.”

“I told you so,” Alec tells him, and then reaches down on impulse to put his hands on Magnus’ hips. “Now grab the brush.”

“Mhm,” Magnus replies agreeably, his hips pushing back a bit, just enough to be an awful tease. “And now?”

“Now you clean the plate,” Alec says. “Small circles, adding pressure, just like when you’re—” he breaks off, frowning at himself in confusion. In front of him, Magnus lets out a low moan.

“I think I get the idea.”

“Good.”

“I have to say,” Magnus adds, pushing his hips back a fraction more, just enough to make it blatantly obvious to both of them that Alec is hard in his pants. “You keep on surprising me, Alexander.”

“Because I’m good at washing dishes?”

“Yeah, sure,” Magnus replies, letting out a shaky breath. “Let’s call it that.”

He turns around, and Alec knows that Magnus is going to kiss him before it actually happens. He lowers his head in anticipation, slides his arms firmly around Magnus’ waist and meets him halfway.

The kiss turns desperate and demanding within seconds, bodies pulled flush together and lips and tongues stroking at every bit of pleasure they can find. Alec gasps as Magnus’ hands go to the front of his shirt, deftly undoing buttons until the dark fabric is hanging open uselessly from Alec’s shoulders. Alec shrugs it off and presses forward, crowding Magnus against the counter, hoisting him up to align their hips. 

“Fuck, I missed sex,” he murmurs, biting lightly into Magnus’s earlobe. Then he notices what he just said and freezes. “I mean, I—”

“Don’t worry, It’s okay,” Magnus assures him, pulling Alec back into a fierce kiss that makes Alec’s head spin. “I don’t care, you’re absolutely perfect; please help me get my pants off.”

Alec groans against his lips and does as told, getting Magnus’ belt open and being momentarily confused about the button fly of his pants before his fingers just… figure it out somehow. And then he has Magnus’ bare hips beneath his hands, and Magnus is pulling Alec’s zipper down, and Alec’s brain dissolves into glorious heat.

He really thought sex would be a lot more difficult and awkward than it’s turning out to be, but it’s not like he’s going to complain about it. He runs his hands up Magnus’ body as their hips start to move together, bringing the shirt up and off as he goes. His hands get distracted by the many necklaces on their way back again, and he mindlessly follows each of the chains with his fingers, loving the way Magnus’ body feels under his hands.

“What do you want?” he asks Magnus breathlessly, the words falling from his lips easily, as though he’s already said them dozens of times before.

Magnus moans, and one of his hands drops to the small of Alec’s back, pulling him forward and guiding his hips, while the other slips in between their bodies to line up their erections properly.

“Just like this,” he says, his voice coming out hoarse and affected. “Take the edge off so we— _ah_ —for later, I want to—”

A loud buzzing rings through the loft, making Alec jump and look around wildly. Magnus groans and grabs the back of his head, pulls him back in for another kiss.

“Ignore it,” he tells Alec, even as the doorbell buzzes again, longer this time. “Whoever it is, they can come back later.”

Alec nods and kisses him back, picking up the rhythm of their hips again. 

_Buzz! Buzz! Buzz! Buzzzzzzzzzzzzz! Buzzzzzzzzzzz! Buzzzzzzzzzzzzz! Buzz! Buzz! Buzz!_

Magnus breaks away, swearing loudly as he waves his hand and makes his discarded shirt fly up from the floor.

“I’m sorry, that’s—”

“Clearly an emergency,” Alec fills in, already pulling up his pants. “Fuck, what do we do? Should I leave somehow? Hide somewhere?”

_Buzz! Buzz! Buzz!_

Magnus surges up and presses a short, desperate kiss to his lips. “Just wait here. I’ll deal with whatever is at the door as fast as I can, and then we’ll pick this right back up? Okay?”

“Okay,” Alec agrees breathlessly, smiling as he scoops up his own shirt from the floor. He buttons it back up and pulls a hand through his hair, taking a deep breath to try and calm himself a little.

_“Well someone had better be dying!”_ he hears Magnus’ voice call irritably from the other room, doors slamming open, quickly followed by a number of hurrying feet and Magnus’ voice ringing out again, all business now. _“Quickly! bring him over here.”_

That does not sound good. 

_“He was attacked by a werewolf,”_ a man says, and Alec’s blood turns cold. That’s Clary’s annoying friend’s voice. Fuck.

_“Thank you, I can see that,”_ Magnus replies. _“Stand back, I need to remove the blood to see what we’re dealing with.”_

_“Please,”_ he hears Clary sob. _“He’s my dad, Magnus. I can’t lose him. Please, I can’t lose him too.”_

Alec’s feels his pulse skyrocket. Valentine. They managed to capture _Valentine?_. He’s out the door before he has a chance to think, sprinting into the living room and coming to a dead stop as he realises his mistake.

Luke Garroway is lying on Magnus’ couch, blue magic orbiting him as Magnus holds a hand right above his heart. Next to them, Clary is crying, Simon’s arms around her, while Izzy stands next to them, her seraph blade still out.

“Ah, Alexander,” Magnus says, after everyone has stared at each other in shock for a while. “Could you get me some bandages from the bathroom, please? We have a bit of a situation on our hands.”

* * *

“We don’t have a lot of time,” Magnus says, pushing what looks like a piece of wood between Luke’s teeth, causing him to cry out and his eyes to flash a brilliant green. “There, it will take a few moments to take effect. Alec, hand me those bandages, please? I almost have the bleeding under control.”

“What’s happening to him?” Clary demands, as Alec helps Magnus wrap up Luke’s torso. There are claw and bite marks everywhere—Alec doesn’t know how he’s even still alive. 

“Random werewolf transformation,” Magnus replies. “It’s a side effect of the poison in the Alpha bite. The bark will stop the transformation for now, but Luke needs an antidote to stop the poison in his system, and I don’t have all the ingredients here.”

“What do you need?” Alec says immediately, wincing as Magnus lists the ingredients, all of which are decidedly black market stuff. He looks up at Izzy. “What do you think? Any ideas?”

“Yeah, I know a girl who should be able to help,” Izzy replies. “It’s all the way up in the Bronx, though; I don’t know if we can get there and back in time.”

“I’ll portal you over,” Magnus says. “Give me the address and I’ll get you as close to it as I can.”

“I’ll go with her,” Clary says immediately. “Anything to help.”

“No, you should stay here,” Magnus says, moving efficiently around his loft, collecting different ingredients. “Luke will need you if he wakes up.”

“ _When_ he wakes up!”

“I can go?” Simon volunteers. “I mean, Luke’s always been like a dad to me too. I want to help out.”

“That’s really sweet, but the place I’m going is warded against Mundanes,” Izzy tells him. Then she frowns and looks Simon up and down. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine!” Simon says, too quickly, which pulls Alec’s attention as well. The Mundane is… jittery, and there’s definitely something different about him since the last time Alec saw him.

“Do you want me to go with you?” Alec asks, turning back to Izzy.

“Sure, yeah, I could use the backup.”

“We’ll be back as soon as we can,” Alec tells Magnus, while Izzy finds their destination on her phone and shows it to him.

Magnus pulls out an honest-to-god cauldron from a cabinet and starts a magical fire beneath it. “Good, I’ll put together the base while you’re gone. Clary, grab the silver knife over there and start chopping these as finely as you can, please.”

He turns towards an empty wall and moves his hands through the air, making a portal shimmer into place before them.

“You’ll step out at the entrance to the Botanical Gardens,” he says. “Now go.”

Alec nods his head in thanks, narrowly managing to suppress the impulse to reach out and touch Magnus’ hand. Magnus notices the aborted movement and sends him a small smile, keeping their eyes locked until Alec disappears after Izzy through the portal.

* * *

“I’m _so_ sorry that we barged in on you like that,” is the first thing Izzy says when they step out of the portal again. “But we really didn’t have much choice, and Clary was frantic. I tried to text you a warning?”

“How the hell did it happen?” Alec demands. “And where is Jace? You were supposed to talk him and Clary out of going off on their own and do stupid stuff.”

“I did!” Izzy argues. “We had a good talk, actually. Same with Clary. But then Simon called with some kind of best friend emergency, and the next thing we know, they’ve been kidnapped by werewolves.”

“And Jace?”

“Parking Luke’s car. And hopefully not killing himself in the process.”

“Great. Because all we really need right now is the mundane police getting involved and arresting him for some kind of traffic violation,” Alec says, sighing. “This just keeps getting better.”

“At least your date seems to have gone well?” Izzy says, raising an eyebrow at him. “ _Very_ well judging by the state of your shirt.”

Alec automatically reaches down and tries to surreptitiously smooth down the fabric over his chest, feeling himself flush.

“Your buttons don’t line up,” Izzy tells him helpfully. “Also, your hair is a _mess_. I like it.”

“So, tell me about it,” she continues, a teasing smile on her lips. “Does the great Magnus Bane live up to his reputation?”

“I wouldn’t know, we got rudely interrupted,” Alec replies drily.

Izzy’s smile widens. “That good, huh?”

“Mind your own business,” Alec tells her, unable to quite hold back a smile of his own. “Where’s the place you were talking about?”

“Just around the corner,” Izzy says. “There, the blue door over there.”

Alec nods and does a quick scan of their surroundings. “Weapons out or no?”

“Not unless we have to,” Izzy replies. She pulls out her phone.

“Hi, Helia, It’s Izzy. Yeah, I know, it’s been forever. Listen, I’m at your door and I need a huge favour…”

Alec keeps a lookout while Izzy talks and then follows her into the building when the blue door opens. As they walk down a hallway, the walls on either side of them gradually fade away, until they’re standing in a sunny glen at the entrance to a beautiful pavilion.

A seelie girl with long, dark braids steps out, eyes lighting up when she sees Izzy.

“Isabelle. It’s so very nice to see you,” she says, and then reaches out and puts a hand at the side of Izzy’s face, pulling her into a slow, lingering kiss. When they break apart again, her eyes move over to Alec—who hopefully doesn’t look quite as stunned as he feels—and there’s a gleam of clear appreciation in them as she looks him up and down. “And you brought a friend.”

“More like a brother,” Izzy replies quickly. “It’s nice to see you, too, Helia. It’s been—”

“Too long,” the girl fills in. “I sent off a fire message for the things you said you needed. Would you like to come in and wait until they get here? Flix is home from court as well, if you think your brother would appreciate his company?”

“Normally, I’m sure he would,” Izzy replies, sending Alec a meaningful look. “But I rudely pulled him away from a previous engagement for this mission, so I need to get him back to that as soon as possible.”

“Too bad,” Helia says. “It’s a surprise to see you, I have to say. Not a lot of Shadowhunters would have the nerve to venture into the Seelie realm with the situation being what it is.”

“Yeah, Meliorn told me about the Court cutting communications with the Clave,” Izzy replies. “But just because our peoples are tied up in politics, that’s no reason for old friends like us not to keep in contact, is it?”

“Friendly relations are always valuable,” Helia agrees. She reaches out and touches a hand to Izzy’s chest, following the lines of her angelic power rune there and then continuing the caress up to the collarbone. “That’s a beautiful necklace you’re wearing.”

Alec sees Izzy stiffen slightly, a gleam of something hard flashing through her eyes, even though her smile remains as open and inviting as ever.

“It’s not mine, unfortunately,” she says, touching her own hand to the gem and turning her lips into a pout. “It’s on loan from Magnus Bane.”

“The High Warlock of Brooklyn gave you this?” Helia asks, sounding impressed. “I hear his eye is easy to catch but impossible to keep. How did you manage it?”

“I didn’t,” Izzy says, looking over at Alec with a too bright smile and an apology in her eyes. “My brother did. I’m just benefiting from the association.”

“I see,” Helia replies, looking over at Alec with a new level of respect in her eyes. “An association with a High Warlock is a valuable thing indeed.”

Alec quickly meets Izzy’s eyes, just to confirm that he’s not misinterpreting the situation; Izzy gives him the smallest of nods in reply.

“Magnus is a generous man to the people who are special to him,” he says, straightening up a little and putting on the most charming smile he can manage. “Being in his orbit can be most… rewarding.”

He inwardly winces at the words, wondering how the hell he’s going to explain this to Magnus once they get back. On the other hand, they need the ingredients to save Luke’s life, so there’s nothing he can really do about it now.

“I imagine it can be,” Helia replies, her smile widening. “Well, Alec, it was wonderful to meet you, and I very much look forward to our paths crossing again.”

She walks over to a cabinet at one of the walls, waves a hand in front of it to open a hatch and pulls out a small silk bag which she comes back and hands to Izzy.

“Thank you,” Izzy says, pocketing the bag and pulling Helia close for a kiss. Alec pointedly looks away and takes his phone out of his pocket, trying to block out the small pleased sound Helia makes against his sister’s lips.

_We have the ingredients,_ he texts Magnus. _We’ll be back at the portal site in five minutes._

_Please hurry!!!_ a reply comes back, almost immediately. Except it’s not coming from Magnus’ number, but from an unknown one that has to be either Clary or Simon. _Luke’s worse. Magnus is pouring magic into him, but I’m not sure how much longer either of them can hold on._

“Izzy,” Alec says, sharply enough that it has his sister break away from Helia and look up in alarm. “Situation is spiralling, we need to go.”

_We’ll be right there. Tell Magnus we’re coming,_ he texts back, somehow still managing to keep the presence of mind to politely bow to Helia before they leave. His heart is hammering in his chest as he and Izzy run down the streets back towards the Botanical Gardens, a sense of almost panic gripping him when they arrive and there’s nothing there.

“Where’s the portal?” Izzy asks, looking back at him worriedly. “You told them we’re coming back, right?”

Alec wordlessly shows her the texts. “If Magnus’ magic is too low and he can’t get us back—”

“It’s at least 40 minutes back to where they are,” Izzy says, swearing softly as she pulls up her phone as well. “If we draw additional speed runes, we could maybe—oh thank the angel.”

A portal shimmers into place, decidedly smaller and more faded than the one they arrived through. Alec huddles down to make himself as small as possible and jumps.

* * *

They stumble back out of the portal and into complete chaos. Luke is trashing on the couch, howling in pain as Jace and Simon do their best to hold him down; Clary is stirring the cauldron with shaking hands, tears streaming down her face; and Magnus is on his knees on the floor, looking like he’s seconds away from collapsing, the blue magic he keeps sending into Luke’s body faint and flickering.

“Go, I’ll get the potion ready,” Izzy tells him, and Alec is moving before the words are fully out of her mouth.

He falls to his knees next to Magnus and puts an arm around his waist in support. Magnus jerks at the contact and turns his head, everything about him screaming exhaustion as his eyes try to focus on Alec.

“Help me. I need your strength.”

Alec holds up his hand without hesitation. “Take what you need.”

Magnus looks momentarily stunned, and then he smiles, soft and breathtaking, and curls his fingers around Alec’s.

His magic connecting is like being pulled under water—all of Alec’s senses exploding at once and in every part of his body. He grits his teeth and closes his eyes against the pain that comes with it, taking deep breaths and focusing on keeping still, to not fight against the sudden intrusion. 

Magnus propels them forward, and Alec can feel the surge of magic as Magnus renews his efforts to keep Luke alive. The initial pain fades quickly, and a deep, steady ache takes its place, throbbing inside him as though his entire body is connected to the rhythmic beat of Magnus’ heart.

He holds onto Magnus’ hand like a lifeline as the magic draws on his energy, feeling lightheaded and impossibly grounded all at once. He can feel his power pour into Magnus, feels it connect and morph—can even feel the way it’s spreading outward from there, forcing back the poison that's trying to spread in Luke’s blood.

There’s sudden movement on his right, and Alec opens his eyes just in time to see Izzy pour a thick potion into Luke’s mouth, rubbing two fingers against his throat to get him to swallow.

The effect is instantaneous. Luke’s body stops seizing and falls back against the couch. Magnus breaks the connection and slumps back as well—into Alec’s arms.

“You okay?” Alec asks quietly, as everyone else starts to fuss over Luke. Magnus looks back at him with a dopey smile on his face, and Alec gets it—with the strain of pushing out too much magic gone, the endorphin rush is quickly erasing any lingering pain, filling him up and sending his brain into a dizzying high.

“Just perfect, darling,” Magnus murmurs sleepily, and Alec has an overwhelming urge to lean in and kiss him. He reaches out and strokes a strand of hair out of Magnus’s face instead, pulling him a little closer.

* * *

Magnus falls into a deep sleep as soon as it’s clear that the danger has passed, so Alec helps the others move Luke into the guest room and kicks everyone but Clary (who planted herself at the foot of Luke’s bed and just glared at Alec when he suggested she should leave as well) out of the loft.

Luke is awake and already healing, so Alec isn’t particularly worried about him. Still, the transformation is bound to be hard on his body, so Alec goes into the kitchen and makes a plate with some of the leftovers from his and Magnus’ dinner.

Luke is in the middle of telling Clary about his past as a Shadowhunter when Alec enters the room with the food and a glass of water.

“I figured you might want something to eat?”

“Thank you,” Luke says, a surprised smile on his face. “That’s really nice of you.”

“Luke was just telling me about the Circle,” Clary adds. “Apparently, my mom told him that I’m the key to something, and knowing what happened back then will help unlock me somehow.”

“Is that so?” Alec replies, not quite managing to keep the skepticism he feels out of his voice.

“There’s a lot of things about what happened then that people don’t know about,” Luke says. “It was a different time in many ways. The Accords were there, but a lot of people were only paying lip service to them. There was growing anti-Downworlder sentiment even before Valentine came along. It’s one of the reasons he was able to recruit so many of us to the Circle.”

Alec nods, taking his time to arrange Luke’s food on the bedside table, waiting to see what other information is forthcoming.

“I can’t find a fork,” Luke says, looking around and frowning. “Clary, could you get one for me, please? And a tray if you can find it? I’d hate getting food on the sheets if I’d happen to spill.”

“Of course,” Clary replies, putting a hand on Luke’s foot and squeezing it before she leaves. “I’ll be right back.”

“I got a feeling you have questions for me?” Luke says as soon as the door closes behind her.

Alec winces and pulls a hand through his hair, but then figures he might as well bite the bullet and get it over with. “Magnus told me my parents were in the Circle. And your fork is under the blanket; I saw you hide it.”

“I like to even out the numbers in a conversation. And yes, they were,” Luke confirms, causing Alec’s heart to sink. “I don’t know the details of when or why they left, because it was after I was turned, but I wasn’t overly surprised to find out they’d managed to stay on the Clave’s good side afterwards—both of them were always incredibly good at landing on their feet.”

“But they followed Valentine freely?” Alec presses on. “They believed him to be right in what he was doing?”

“We all did, more or less,” Luke replies. “At first, it was just demons he wanted gone, you see. And then demons and Downworlders who worked for them. And then, in the end, it was all the Downworlders. Prejudice is a very slippery slope.”

“But the Circle didn’t just kill demons and Downworlders—you killed Shadowhunters as well.”

“Towards the end, yes. The more hateful Valentine became—the more he lost his grip on reality—the more radical and paranoid he became as well. If you weren’t with him, you were against him, and very few people had the courage to openly oppose him. He’d grown far too powerful by that point.”

“But you did? I’m guessing that’s why he attacked you?”

Luke’s face hardens. “What makes you think he attacked me?”

“Dad told me Valentine betrayed his _parabatai_ by throwing him to a group of werewolves at the full moon,” Alec replies. “Cautionary tale when Jace and I were fighting once. You were a Shadowhunter before you turned, and you were in the Circle. And Clary calls you her dad, which means you must have been close enough with Jocelyn to have stayed at her side all this time—it doesn’t take a genius to put two and two together.”

“You might want to get all the data before you start crunching numbers,” Luke says coldly. “I answered your questions about your parents. Anything else?”

“Can’t think of anything, no,” Alec says, crossing his arms. “You? Anything you want to say?”

“What? Like thank you for saving my life?” Luke replies. “From what I understand, Magnus did most of the work. And, frankly, you’re being a bit of a brat right now. You’re the future Head of the New York Institute, Alec; act like it.”

Alec bristles. “I’m not a child.”

“No, you’re not,” Luke agrees. “ _So don’t act like one_. I’m the alpha of my pack as of tonight, and I’d very much prefer it if you and I could build a good working relationship.”

He looks at Alec, one eyebrow raised in both challenge and expectation. Alec keeps his gaze steady for about ten seconds before he breaks and looks away. “I’m sorry.”

“Thank you,” Luke says simply. “And thank you again for the food. I really appreciate it. Now, would you do me a favour and go see where Clary disappeared to?”

“Will do,” Alec replies. He holds out a hand, and Luke immediately takes it. “Thank you, Luke. I’m glad you’re okay.”

“You and me both,” Luke replies, and Alec shakes his head and walks from the room.

* * *

Cleaning is a task that Alec has always found calming. It’s easy, repetitive and lets him see immediate results. Tonight’s drama has left Magnus’ living room a complete mess, so Alec busies himself with putting things back in order while he waits for Magnus to wake up.

He’s working on getting the last of Luke’s blood off the couch when Magnus walks into the room, looking soft and rumpled from sleep. It’s a more open and vulnerable version of him than what Alec has seen so far, and he finds that he likes it. Really likes it. Magnus doesn’t say anything right away, just walks around the room and puts the magic paraphernalia back to where it’s supposed to be. Alec watches him out of the corner of his eye, very much enjoying the companionable mood that settles between them as they each go about their work.

“You do know I have magic for that, right?” Magnus tells him a little later, as Alec is scrubbing at a particularly stubborn stain.

He looks up and sees Magnus stand over by his bar, pouring clear liquid from a shaker into a cocktail glass.

“I think you exerted yourself enough for one day,” he replies, though he has to admit that Magnus’ post-magic nap seems to have done wonders for his energy levels.

“Drink break?” Magnus asks, holding out the glass towards him. Alec puts down his rag and gets to his feet, walking over to him.

Magnus’ hair is still disheveled—despite having been obviously redone together with his makeup—and the deep v-neck of his shirt is showing off the tan skin that Alec was allowed to touch only hours ago. His eyes are helplessly drawn to it, moving from Magnus’ collarbone to the dip between his pecs, then lower, down across his abs.

“I’m sorry we got interrupted, too,” Magnus tells him quietly, putting the glass he was holding back on the bar again. “Come here?”

Alec moves into him like a magnet, reaching out to grab at Magnus’ waist while Magnus slides his arms around Alec’s neck. The second time they come together feels even better than the first, and Alec parts his lips eagerly, desperate to deepen the kiss and feel Magnus closer.

He pulls Magnus flush against his body and puts everything he has into the kiss, a flare of heat going straight to his groin when Magnus moans into his mouth and sends a small spark of magic dancing down Alec’s spine.

“We have terrible, terrible timing,” Magnus manages, pulling away from the kiss. “As much as I would love to get you out of those clothes and pick up right where we left off earlier, there’s blood on my couch, a recovering werewolf occupying my guest room and a bunch of Shadowhunters afoot that might walk in on us at any moment.”

“Yeah,” Alec agrees, dropping his face to the crook of Magnus neck and taking deep breaths to try and steady himself. “You’re right. Of course. We should—”

“Stay the night anyway?” Magnus asks, tilting his head to the side to give Alec better access as his mouth starts wandering over the skin of Magnus’ neck mindlessly. “I’ll— _oh_ —make us some tea. Something—calming.”

He puts a hand on Alec’s chest and pushes gently, breaking the contact. Alec swallows as Magnus looks back at him with dark eyes, feeling the heat between them grow. He leans in again—can’t help himself—and kisses Magnus one more time, revelling in the thrill and the taste of him before pulling back. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea.”

“It’s a terrible idea,” Magnus agrees, chasing after Alec’s lips. “Stay anyway.”

“I’ll—”

His phone rings, breaking the moment. He sends Magnus an apologetic look and turns away, apprehension flaring as he sees that it’s Izzy calling.

“What’s wrong?”

“Hi, Alec,” Izzy says, sounding strained as well as deeply apologetic. “I really hate that I keep doing this to you, but you need to come back to the Institute right away. Mom and dad just portalled in from Idris, and I have no idea where Jace is.”

Alec swears quietly to himself and then tells Izzy he’ll be right there.

“I’m sorry, duty calls,” he tells Magnus, putting the phone back in his pocket. “I’ll have to take a raincheck on that… cup of tea.”

He can’t help the small smirk that grabs the corner of his lips at the last words, and even less so when he sees Magnus’ eyes drop to his lips.

“Probably for the best,” Magnus says. “Go. Do… shadowhunter-y things. I should—rest, anyway. Recharge my magic and all.”

“Right,” Alec replies, unable to make himself actually move away. “So, um, good night, I guess?”

“Jesus Christ, you’re going to be the death of me,” he hears Magnus murmur, and then he’s being walked backwards towards Magnus’ front door, his jacket zooming in and wrangling itself onto his body while Magnus kisses him to within an inch of his life.

“ _Go,_ ” Magnus repeats, breaking the kiss and practically shoving him out the door. “While I still have enough self-control not to embarrass myself.”

Alec surges in and kisses him again, swallowing the deep groan that breaks from Magnus’ throat before forcing himself to pull back. “Can I call you tomorrow?”

“You’d better,” Magnus replies, straightening up and seemingly getting himself back under control. “We have a date to finish, after all. This one didn’t even make it to dessert.”

By the teasing glint in his eyes, Alec can tell he’s definitely not talking about the box of cupcakes left in the fridge. Leaving the loft and heading back to the Institute suddenly seems like an impossible task.

“Next time, maybe we’ll start with that,” he hears himself say, feeling suddenly bold. The spark he felt between them last night has only grown, and everything they’ve done tonight… Alec definitely wants more of it. “Night, Magnus.”

“Good night, Alexander,” he hears Magnus reply from behind him, and a wisp of blue magic appears in front of him as he leaves, caressing the side of his face before it flickers out again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments are love and completely make my day. <3
> 
> And I finally managed to make a [rebloggable post](http://actuallyredorchid.tumblr.com/post/148805449665/fic-closed-doors-dont-lie-pairing-magnus) for this fic on my tumblr, so feel free to reblog and spread the word if you're enjoying this fic. :)


	3. Family

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maryse and Robert are back from Idris, Izzy is an awesome sister, and the plot kicks up a notch.

Alec finds Jace without much trouble—and in the middle of trouble as well, because what else is new? He’s in a back alley fighting off a number of small, scaly-looking demons as Alec approaches, and Alec can tell that even with the brutal efficiency that Jace cuts them down, the sheer number of them is going to make things take forever.

He heaves a sigh and grabs his bow, taking out the demons on the sidelines before drawing his blade and sprinting forward.

“You could have called me for backup, you know,” he tells Jace as he cuts down a demon that’s preparing to jump onto his back, making it explode in a shower of sparks.

“Didn’t want to interrupt your _date_ ,” Jace replies, and there’s an undertone of anger in his voice that makes Alec pause. “Were you ever going to tell me about that?” Jace continues, plunging his blade into another couple of demons. “I came to Magnus’ loft after stashing Luke’s car and fucking Simon was going on and on to Magnus about how sorry he was that we were cockblocking the two of you. I had no clue and felt like a complete idiot, especially when you and Iz got back and you basically went straight into making out with him on the floor.”

“I was helping him save Luke’s life!” Alec protests, cutting down another demon that tries to jump him. “And I didn’t tell you because it was none of your business.”

“How is it none of my business? I’m your _parabatai_?”

“Oh? Like you’ve told me about how you’re sneaking around with Clary?”

“We’re not sneaking around! I’m trying to help her find her mom. And stop Valentine while we’re at it.”

“Seems to me you’re mostly just helping her find your dick,” Alec says, channelling his negative feelings into slashing through another couple of demons.

Jace’s reply gets cut off when yet another demon jumps at him. He lets out a shout in frustration, piercing two demons who have tried to latch onto his legs. “Fuck! I can’t fight like this! Come on, Alec, we can settle whatever got your panties in a twist later, just fight _with me_ , will you?”

“ _Fine_ ,” Alec grits out through his teeth, taking a deep breath and focusing his attention inward, reaching for Jace through their bond.

“ _There_ we go,” he hears Jace’s voice as the bond activates, and Alec can’t stay mad at him—not when everything in them connects and he can feel the beating of Jace’s heart inside his own.

Their speed and accuracy almost double when they fight like this, and Alec cuts down five demons with a single blow of his blade, adrenaline pumping and Jace’s power moving alongside his own in a wave that obliterates everything around them.

Alec closes his eyes and lets himself be swept away by it, the bond guiding his movements until the demons are all gone.

When the last one falls, Jace lets out a triumphant whoop, reaching out to clap Alec on the back, the way he always does. For some reason, this time, Alec pulls away before he can make contact, feeling a sting in his chest when hurt flashes across Jace’s face.

“What, I can’t even touch you now?”

“It’s not that,” Alec says quickly, then takes a deep breath and steels himself. “Look, I understand if you’re mad at me.”

Jace frowns. “Why would I be mad at you?”

Alec gives him an unimpressed look. “The demon at Magnus’?” he says, bracing himself. “The memory… image of you?”

Jace looks at him as though Alec has grown an extra head, and Alec’s heart sinks. “Why would that—? So you love me. So what? I love you too, Alec.”

Alec stops breathing. That can’t— _what?_. He’s spent years of his life dreaming about Jace saying those words to him, and here they are, but he doesn’t— 

Alec swallows, an uneasy feeling spreading in his gut. In some impossible way, the situation feels incredibly familiar, but it also feels… _off_ , in a way he can’t pinpoint. He looks into Jace’s eyes breathlessly, a sinking feeling in his stomach that a second shoe is about to drop.

And then it does.

“Come on, man, we’re _parabatai_ ,” Jace says. “We’re brothers. We’ve spent most of our lives together; how could we not love each other? This is what’s been bothering you? Seriously?”

Alec forces himself to smile, telling himself that he _knew_ this. He always knew this would be Jace’s reaction—that he would choose to play oblivious despite the fact that he knows that Alec can see right through it when he does. He opens his mouth to play along—to say what he needs to in order to sweep the whole thing back under the rug—but then a prickling sensation at the back of his mind makes him hesitate.

His instincts are telling him that something about these memories isn’t _right_ , and he needs to know more.

“The memory it took from you, was it real?” he asks, watching Jace’s face closely. “I mean, obviously, it wasn’t _real_ -real, but what was it?”

“Seriously? You actually want to talk about this?” Jace replies, and there’s a flicker of uncertainty in his eyes, a flash of something that looks a lot like guilt. “The demon was just trying to trick us, you said so yourself. Magnus said it too—so why does it matter?”

“The memory it took from me was from a dream,” Alec tells him, ignoring the voice at the back of his head that’s shouting at him to shut up and just let things go back to normal. “If you’re so sure the demon was just trying to trick us, then why did you look at it like you’d just seen a ghost?”

“Alec, come on, it was a really confusing situation,” Jace tries. “It doesn’t mean anything.”

“But what if it does?” Alec counters. “You recognised it too, didn’t you? You panicked the same way I did. _Why?_ ”

“Everyone has weird dreams sometimes,” Jace argues. “I had a dream where I was turned on by a _tree_ once—it doesn’t mean I have a thing for trees, it just means I’m horny and haven’t been able to get off with anyone for a while!”

Alec opens his mouth to argue back, and then the implication of what Jace just said hits him like a freight train. 

“Wait. Are you saying—Jace, did you have _that_ dream? That particular one?”

“I’m telling you, you’re making this into something it isn’t,” Jace replies. “Yeah, okay, I had that dream. And the one the demon took from me, with the whole… shower thing,” he ducks his head, and Alec can swear that he sees a hint of a blush on Jace’s cheeks. “There, now you know. Can we drop it now, please?” 

“No,” Alec says, mind reeling. “I can’t just let it go, Jace. Don’t you see, _that memory_ —” 

“Alec, you’re my _parabatai_ and my _brother_ ,” Jace cuts him off, looking back at Alec with a desperate shine in his eyes that’s clearly projecting _please shut the fuck up_. “I love you; I would die for you, but this—what you’re making up in your head right now—it’s _not real_. You _have_ to stop.”

He turns on his heel and starts walking away with quick, determined steps. Alec clenches his jaw in frustration and follows him.

“Jace, if that memory was in both our heads—”

Jace turns and moves so quickly, Alec doesn’t have time to react before a hand is pressed hard over his mouth, effectively shutting him up.

“Let it go,” Jace tells him quietly, a slight tremble in his voice. “I’m begging you, Alec; nothing good can come of this. Nothing. We’re _parabatai_ , and I love you like family. Anything more than that isn’t real, never was, never will be. _Please_. Just drop it.”

The expression on his face is deadly serious, tension apparent in every muscle. And for the first time tonight, Alec feels afraid, as though they’re standing on the edge of a cliff together, and a single step in the wrong direction can make everything fall apart.

He swallows thickly against the sudden tightness in his throat and nods. The wave of relief sweeping across Jace’s face at that one small gesture feels like an old, familiar ache.

“Thank you,” Jace tells him, removing his hand. “Come on, man, let’s go home.”

* * *

Maryse and Robert come to meet them as they walk into the Institute, with Izzy trailing closely behind. Alec automatically straightens his spine and squares his shoulders, shaking his dad’s hand briefly as his mom pulls Jace in for a hug. For once, Alec is pathetically grateful that his relationship with his parents is as cool and restrained as it is; knowing what he does now about their past, he’s not sure how he would react if one of them tried to hug him. 

“Mother, father.”

“Alec,” Maryse says, giving him a nod and a small smile. “I’m glad to see that you’re working hard.”

“Always,” Alec replies. Talking about work is safe, comfortable. “Speaking of, Jace and I found a nest of Squamea demons on patrol, so I need to file that report right away. General demon activity is definitely on the rise since Valentine started to make his presence known again.”

“Perhaps Jace can take care of it?” Maryse says, in that way she has that lets all of them know that it’s not really a suggestion. “Alec, your father and I would like a word with you in private, if you will?”

Alec risks a quick glance at Jace and Izzy in turn and sees matching looks of trepidation on their faces. A private talk with their parents rarely amounts to anything good. Then again, Alec has a few uncomfortable questions of his own to ask, so privacy seems like a very good idea.

“Of course,” he says, straightening up a little further and putting on his best professional face. “Let me just stow my bow and I’ll meet you in your office.”

He uses the short walk over to weapons storage to give himself a moment to breathe, systematically taking everything that’s happened during the night and boxing it up in his mind to clear it and turn his focus on the next task in front of him. 

_Both of them were always incredibly good at landing on their feet._

Luke’s words keep coming back to him. His parents being in the Circle takes everything he thought he knew about them and twists it. Alec wonders what exactly they owe the Clave in return for their continued freedom.

“So, tell us, Alec, how are things running?” his dad asks once the three of them are seated in the Head office. Alec sees his mother shoot an unimpressed look at the piles of unfinished reports still on the desk in the meantime and automatically wishes he’d put in another couple of hours to get them sorted that afternoon.

“Things are running well,” he replies. “It’s been a challenge having Clary show up, but we got it under control.”

“Ah yes, the Fairchild girl,” his mother says. “I must admit, you had me worried for a few days there, Alec. But we all make mistakes as we’re thrown into new situations, and the last information we got from the Clave was incredibly encouraging. There’s no faster way to rise through the ranks than to get challenges thrown at you and mastering them. People in Idris are starting to notice you, which brings us to what your father and I wanted to talk to you about.”

“Let’s hear it,” Alec replies, keeping his face carefully neutral. On the inside, his mind is racing, different scenarios outlining themselves. He really hopes he’s not about to be sent on away on a longer mission, or given a new responsibility for which he’ll have to travel a lot—not with everything currently going on in New York.

“You’ve been an adult for quite some time now,” his dad begins. “Your mom and I have been giving you time, because we know it hasn’t been the easiest task to essentially take over control of an institute at the age you did, even with Izzy and Jace here to help you. But you’re firmly established now, your authority among the Shadowhunters here in New York is fully accepted, and your name is on the rise. It’s time we start looking for an alliance.”

Alec’s feels a spark of unease at the bottom of his spine, which quickly starts spreading outward. “You want me to get married?”

“Not right away, of course,” Maryse replies. “Keep up the the work you’re doing here, and your options will just keep improving. You already have some very good prospects, but in three months? In six? You could conceivably align yourself with one of the most important families in Idris or Alicante.”

Alec swallows against the lump suddenly in his throat. He always knew this day would come. He’s the eldest, the heir to the Institute—of course he knew he’d have to get married some day. He just didn’t think it’d be this soon, or that he’d have such a strong reaction to it. He always thought he’d be pragmatic about it, resigned at worst, optimistic at best. Not this sick feeling in his stomach and the sense that the world is closing in around him.

“I don’t want to get married,” he says, without meaning to. The words are just _there_ , all of a sudden, falling out of his mouth. His mom and dad look back at him, different levels of shock on their faces.

“I mean, the timing isn’t great,” he tries to backpedal. “With Valentine and everything. We could have a war on our hands soon enough if things keep going the way they are. Not exactly the time to put focus on something so frivolous as a wedding.”

“On the contrary,” his mom says. “Valentine rising makes the matter all the more pressing. A war between him and the Clave will make it vital for us to have the right allies.”

“Why? Because we’ll be under suspicion otherwise?” Alec replies, the anger and incredulity he felt earlier back at Magnus’ place returning in full force. “Because the two of you were in the Circle? Is that it?” he adds, knowing he’s right on the money when both of his parents visibly pale.

“Why would you think that?” Robert says, the first out of the two of them to pull himself together. “I don’t know who told you such a thing, but they were lying, I promise you.”

“Really?” Alec replies, turning to his mother, feeling his anger rise. “Is that the story you’re sticking to as well?”

His mom straightens her back, looking him straight in the eye. “Of course.”

Alec looks between them, the shock of being blatantly lied to making him feel cold all over. He always knew his parents were ambitious, always knew they would skate the truth when necessary, but he never thought—Alec’s done _everything_ they’ve asked of him, has never put even a toe out of line in any way that matters, has accepted every punishment for mistakes he’s made with perfect grace, because he’s a Lightwood, and that’s what his parents have taught him that Lightwoods do.

He stands up abruptly from his seat, suddenly and irrationally furious. 

“You think I didn’t verify this information?” he practically spits out. “You think—what? That I just stumbled upon it and figured ‘sure, what the heck, seems plausible’? You don’t get to use me to fix something that _you_ broke, _and_ lie to my face about it!”

“Alec, calm down,” his mother tries, in the tone of voice of hers that says ‘this is an order’.

Alec doesn’t care. For the first time in his life, he’s actually pissed off enough to not give a damn about what his parents think of him.

It’s incredibly freeing. They look so small before him all of a sudden, so inconsequential. This is Alec’s life, his name, and he can find another way to do it than just blindly follow along with his parents’ wishes. The anger burns bright in his veins, and Alec thinks of Izzy all of a sudden, of how incredibly brilliant and strong she is, and still seemingly never good enough in their mom’s eyes. 

It’s so transparent when he starts to think about it. The harsh opinions towards Downworlders, the constant talk of ‘the natural order of things’. And now Valentine is back, which means…

“You’re not trying to marry me off to suck up to the Clave,” he says, crossing his arms in front of him and doing his best to stare his parents down. “You’re not looking for allies to fight him, you’re looking for allies to _protect you from him_. Because you were in the Circle, and you have to have betrayed him to escape punishment from the Clave. And now you know that he’ll come for you first.”

His parents stony faces say it all. Even now, with their secret out in the open, they won’t admit it—will probably _never_ admit to it or accept any form of guilt.

“I’m gay,” Alec tells them bluntly, feeling a sting of terror as well as a surge of relief from finally saying the words out loud. “And if you two could run an institute after having been in the Circle, then I’ll manage to do so without a wife I could never love. This conversation is over.” 

He turns and walks from the room, forcing himself not to look back when his mom calls out his name sharply, even though a large part of him is screaming at him to go back immediately, to apologise to his parents, to _fix things_.

But things won’t be fixed— _can’t be fixed_ —and Alec is finally done trying. He starts shaking as soon as he’s out of sight from the main corridor and barely makes it to Izzy’s room before he feels like he can’t breathe, like his heart is going to beat its way right out of his chest.

“Oh my God, Alec, what happened?!”

He lets Izzy grab his waist and pull him into her room, lets her shut the door and put up a sound-blocking rune before he slides to the floor and breaks down in earnest.

“What did they say?” Izzy asks, sounding frantic as she crouches next to him, trying to calm him down. “Alec what did they _do_?”

“I told them,” Alec manages, forcing the words out between trying to get enough air into his lungs. “I _told_ them, Izzy. I got mad and I just told them. It just came out. What the fuck do I do now?”

Izzy wraps her arms tightly around him and just holds on, hugs him fiercely until it gets a little bit easier to breathe and everything inside him stops feeling like it’s on the verge of falling apart.

“Now you live,” Izzy tells him, stroking a hand over his hair. “And you fight. And I’ll be there with you every step of the way.”

“Did you ever—tell them, I mean?” Alec asks, the image of Izzy pulling in Helia for a kiss flashing across his mind. “Is that part of why mom—?”

“No, I’ve never told them,” Izzy replies. “I thought about it, a lot. But I haven’t.”

“That sucks,” Alec tells her earnestly. “You should be able to love whoever you like.”

“Well, I don’t know if it’s ever crossed your mind, but so should _you_ ,” Izzy replies, a small smile starting to spread on her face. “Hey, we’ll do it together, how about that?”

“Do what? Tell them?”

“Live,” Izzy says simply. “And fight. We’ll bring Jace in as well. I’m pretty sure he isn’t straight either.”

“Jace is definitely straight,” Alec replies automatically.

“How do you know?”

“Because the alternative sucks,” Alec says simply, too tired to come up with a more respectable answer. He sighs deeply, dropping his face in his hands. “And no, I still don’t want to talk about it.”

“Okay,” Izzy replies. “Want to sneak down into the kitchens and make ourselves the biggest ice-cream sundaes we can fit into a pair of bowls?”

Alec snorts and wipes at his eyes with the back of his hands. “Sure, let’s do that. And Izzy? Thank you.”

Izzy gives him another hug and ruffles his hair affectionately. “Anytime, big brother.”

* * *

A couple of pints of ice-cream later, Alec does feel a lot better. It’s been a while since he and Izzy got to just hang out on their own without work breathing down their necks.

“So, when did you know?” Alec asks, moving his spoon around the melted mess at the bottom of his bowl. “You know, about the whole girls and guys thing? Or is it both? I’m sorry, I feel like I should have known this about you, been supportive and stuff.”

Izzy snorts and grabs the container of whipped cream, spraying a mountain of it into her half-empty bowl. “You had some things to figure out yourself. I don’t blame you for not noticing—especially since I did my best to make sure no one would. Well, except Jace. He knows since we go out to party together. But he’s the only one.”

“Oh,” Alec replies, not really knowing how to react to that.

“And yes, for your information, it’s both,” Izzy continues. “Or, more like all, I think. I go a bit back and forth on it.”

“What do you mean, ‘all’?” Alec says, frowning. “There’s just the two, isn’t there? Men and women?”

“Oh, you have so much to learn,” Izzy tells him. “Fortunately, now that we’re finally talking about these things, I can give you a crash course. Sexuality and gender 101.” She smiles at him, her eyes growing soft and serious. “I’m really happy for you, Alec. I know how badly you want to please mom and dad and be the perfect Shadowhunter, but the level of repression you’ve had going on was killing you—if not your body, then your spirit, for sure. I know you don’t want to talk about your feelings for Jace, but—”

“You’re right, I don’t,” Alec interrupts her. “I don’t want to talk about it, and Jace _definitely_ doesn’t. It doesn’t matter anyway. He’s clearly head over heels for Clary, even though he pretends not to be.”

“And what about you?” Izzy asks gently. “Are you okay, Alec?”

Alec takes a moment to think, pouring some chocolate sauce into his bowl and poking at it with his spoon. Every time Jace dated someone in the past (though ‘dated’ might be too generous a word) the dominating feeling for Alec was a sick sense of hopelessness. Now, he mostly just feels… tired of the ensuing drama, to be perfectly honest.

“I’m good,” he tells Izzy. “No, really,” he adds, when he sees her skeptical expression, “I think I—It’s like, you know when you have a demon wound that won’t heal? And even after it’s finally closed, it still aches sometimes? It’s kind of like that, I guess, if that makes any sense.”

Izzy nods. “I know exactly what you mean. And I’m really glad you’re moving on.” She perks up, a decidedly evil glint entering her eyes. “Now, tell me about Magnus. I want to know _everything_.”

Just hearing Magnus’ name is enough to make a memory of the two of them together flash across Alec’s mind. A blush starts high in his cheeks as he remembers the heat of Magnus body pressed up against his own, the way they moved together.

“It’s, um, good,” he replies. “Magnus is—quite magical.”

Izzy bites her lip, clearly trying to keep herself from laughing. “Magical, huh?”

“I mean he’s very good at magic,” Alec replies, grinning at her. “Great cook as well. And funny; I don’t think I’ve laughed that much in years. It was—I don’t know, it was just really nice to spend time with him. He’s… different. I like that, I think.”

“Are you going to see him again?”

“Yeah,” Alec says, realising as he says it that it’s absolutely true—he definitely wants to see Magnus again, can’t wait for it, even.

Another thought enters his mind, and he looks down at his bowl again, trying to decide what to do about it.

“Actually, I might have a question,” he says after turning it over in his mind for a while. “And please don’t give me details, because you’re still my sister, and there are things I just don’t want to know, okay?”

“Shoot,” Izzy replies, clearly amused.

“Just… is it normal for sex to feel this easy?” Alec asks. “Like, I—um, before, when we were—I kept having these… flashes, I guess? Like déjà-vu, almost. Like my body just _knew_ what it wanted, somehow? Which it can’t, right? Because, you know, I haven’t, you know, done… anything, really.”

“Well, maybe not with another person,” Izzy replies. “But, I mean, Alec, sex is sex, whether it’s your hands or someone else’s. You learn _a lot_ about your body jerking off, and I… am totally freaking you out right now, aren’t I?” she finishes, laughing as Alec’s whole face burns.

“Alec, you’re a warrior,” she says, once she’s managed to stop laughing. “You work with your body every day. You know how it moves and what it needs, and you know how to listen to it. I’m not saying it’ll make you automatically great in bed, because it won’t, but sex is definitely a time when not thinking with your head is a good thing. Just go with your instincts and roll with it.”

“Yeah, okay,” Alec manages, feeling as though his entire head might be on fire. “Awesome. Great advice. Let’s never talk about it again.”

“You know, I can’t _wait_ for Magnus to properly get his hands on you,” Izzy says with a smirk. “You’re going to be one of those people who get completely sex-stupid when you start getting laid regularly, I can just tell.”

“I am not,” Alec protests. “Also, please stop saying ‘sex’.”

“How about ‘fucking’?” Izzy replies sweetly. “Banging? Doing the beast with two backs? Making love? There are so many options, I don’t know how to choose.”

“I hate you,” Alec says, getting to his feet and dropping his bowl into the sink, groaning as he immediately has another flash of Magnus in front of him, bent over slightly with his hands in bubbly water, pushing his ass back to rub against Alec teasingly.

Great. Now he won’t even be able to do dishes without blushing. This isn’t getting out of hand at all. 

“You love me!” Izzy calls after him as Alec makes his escape from the kitchen. “Let me know if you need advice on how to give a great blowjob!”

Alec’s face keeps burning all the way back to his room.

* * *

The dream, when it starts, is a familiar one.

It’s slightly fuzzy at the edges and tinted a bright yellow, as though the entire scene is bathing in summer sunlight, in spite of a distinct sound of raindrops hitting windows in the background. He’s lying in his bed at the Institute, warm and pleasantly sore in all the right places, and there’s a warm weight curled up against his back, a soft, regular breath against the skin of his neck.

The happiness he feels has an almost painful edge to it, desperate and overwhelming even in the first moments of waking up. The bright yellow intensifies as the person behind him moves in their sleep, and Alec wakes up with a jerk, little yellow sparks still dancing at the corners of his vision.

Down on his hip, his _parabatai_ rune is burning, in a way that is both sharp and dull at once, as though there is something hovering over the bond, pressing down on it. Alec puts his hand to it, trying to figure out what it means.

Even as exhausted as he is, It takes him a while to fall back asleep after that, his mind keeping him awake while his body tries to pull him under. He closes his eyes and focuses on his breathing, taking in long pulls of air through his nose, and letting them out again slowly through his mouth. Eventually, his heartbeat starts to settle, and Alec feels himself drift off.

Another dream claims him: a hand squeezing his hard enough for its fingernails to leave marks on Alec’s palm; a suffocating mess of fear, anger and helplessness pressing down on him; the feeling of hot tears running down his face.

And the light again. The yellow light creeping in from the edges and then washing over him in a wave that burns through his mind—slithering painfully into every part of it, tugging and pulling and _ripping things out_.

Alec wakes up screaming, pathetically grateful for the sound-proofing rune he keeps on his door as he tries to calm down. There’s a faint ache at his temples, like a phantom pain left there by the force of the dream, and a much worse, almost stabbing pain at his hip.

He looks down, pulling in a sharp breath as he sees his _parabatai_ rune glowing softly in the dark, like the embers of a fire that are just dying out. He closes his eyes and reaches inward, focusing on the bond, and opening them again in shock as he realises that he can feel a shadow of Jace’s mind through it when an image of familiar red hair flashes before his eyes.

Alec slaps his hand over his rune, as though he’ll be able to shut the impressions out that way, and reaches for his phone with shaking fingers, finding Jace’s number in his contacts list and then hesitating, his thumb hovering over the ‘call’ button.

_I’m begging you, Alec; nothing good can come of this._

He lets his arm drop, phone slipping from his fingers and landing on the bed. Even as he picks it back up and places it on the bedside table, however, he knows he won’t be able to let Jace get his way—not this time. Someone’s meddled with their memories, and after seeing Magnus’ magic up close, Alec is pretty sure that the yellow light he keeps seeing in his dreams is connected to the memory loss somehow. He presses his hand more firmly against his rune, reaching for his stele with his other hand and drawing a sleeping rune on the inside of his arm.

Rest first, though; and then he’ll tackle the rest of it tomorrow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments are love! Come flail with me on [tumblr](http://actuallyredorchid.tumblr.com). :D


	4. The Mortal Cup

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Shadowhunters go after the Mortal Cup, and the beginnings of a tentative alliance is formed between Alec and Luke.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've discovered how to make GIFs! Meaning parts of this fic are now illustrated :D GIFs are [under the CDDL GIFs tag](http://actuallyredorchid.tumblr.com/tagged/CDDL-GIFs) on my tumblr.
> 
> Feel free to make requests for other scenes you'd like to see in GIF form! :D

Alec wakes up with a throbbing headache. The _iratze_ he draws only helps so much, and the possibility of being cornered by his parents is not a tempting one, so Alec quickly changes into workout clothes and sneaks out of the Institute for a morning run.

It’s late enough in the day that commuters are no longer clogging the streets, so he doesn’t bother activating a glamour. Even with his runes on display, he melts into the crowd without any problems—one of the many reasons Alec loves New York.

His feet take him over to Brooklyn, and soon enough, he realises that he’s only a few blocks away from Magnus’ loft. He takes out his phone and dials. Magnus picks up on the second ring.

“Alexander, good morning.”

“Hi,” Alec replies, feeling a smile spread across his lips. “What are you up to?”

“Oh, nothing much,” Magnus says. “I’m in Brazil, actually. Had to pop over for some potion ingredients, but I’m almost done. What about you?”

“Oh,” Alec says, taken aback. “I’m, um, about three blocks away from your loft, actually. Out for a run.”

“Are you now?” Magnus replies, sounding exceedingly pleased. “In that case, how about we go for brunch when I’m back? Luke’s still at the loft with Clary. Text one of them to let you in, if you want to take a shower while you wait.”

“I don’t know, Magnus” Alec says, looking down at his worn tank top and sweatpants with a frown. “About brunch, I mean. I’m not exactly dressed for it.”

“We could always order in?” Magnus suggests. “Then again, I guess with Luke and Clary still there...”

“Yeah, no, let’s go out,” Alec replies quickly. “There are shops nearby. I could pick up a new t-shirt at least.”

“Nonsense,” Magnus says, sounding dangerously similar to Izzy when she’s got surprises on her mind. “I’ll pick up something for you on the way. What size are you? Never mind, I can always make the necessary adjustments by magic.”

“What?” Alec tries, “No, Magnus, wait—”

“Have to dash,” Magnus says, far too happily. “Go take a shower, darling. I’ll see you in a bit.”

“Nothing bright!” Alec tells his phone, only to find out that Magnus has already hung up on him. Great. Just great. He contemplates turning around and heading back to the Institute but then decides against it. If Magnus wants to tease him, then Alec can be a tease back—starting with taking a much needed shower.

He texts Luke to let him know that he’s coming over to Magnus’ and picks up his pace, running an additional ten blocks or so before making his way to Magnus’ building.

* * *

“We know where to find the Mortal Cup!” is the first thing out of Clary’s mouth when she opens the door to Magnus’ apartment. “Alec, we figured it out! My mom was right—she hid it where only someone with the same powers as her could find it.”

Alec can practically feel himself go into mission mode. “Where is it?”

“At the precinct. Luke packed it in a box with some of the other things that survived the fire, for safekeeping.”

“Luke has the Mortal Cup?” Alec repeats, disbelief coming through clearly in his voice. “Why didn’t he say anything earlier?”

“It’s hidden, and he didn’t realise he had it,” Clary says. “Come on, hurry up and change or something. We need to get going. Jace and Izzy are meeting us there.”

“I’m good to go,” Alec tells her, excitement over finally getting their hands on the Cup easily overriding the way sweat is still dripping down his spine.

Clary raises an eyebrow at him, and Alec scowls in reply. “What’s your problem? We’ll go in glamoured, won’t we?”

“Not a good idea, I’m afraid,” Luke says, walking up to the door and coming to a stop next to Clary. “There are two other werewolves at the station besides me, and I don’t know how they would react to a group of Shadowhunters waltzing in and going through my desk. Better that I just go into work as usual and pick up what we need. After that, it’s up to Clary.”

“Okay, in that case, let me just grab a really quick shower,” Alec says. “Magnus said he’s on his way back as well.” He looks Luke up and down, automatically cataloguing how he’s standing, looking for any signs of pain. “All healed?”

“As good as new,” Luke replies. “My daughter here is a talented nursemaid.”

He and Clary share a soft smile, and Clary moves in closer to Luke’s side, hugging him hard around the waist.

“Thanks, dad.”

Luke hugs her back, then looks over at Alec.

“You know what, I think I’ll just go on ahead,” he tells both of them. “Less suspicious if I turn up alone than if I arrive at the office with not only Clary, but three of her new friends in tow.”

Alec feels a sting of unease in the pit of his stomach.

“The Mortal Cup is a Shadowhunter artifact. I’d really prefer if Jace or Izzy—”

“I used to be a Shadowhunter, remember?” Luke cuts him off. “Believe me when I say that I know exactly what’s at stake here. I’ll get the Cup, and I’ll bring it back to Clary. It’s not me you need to get on your side—it’s her. So I suggest you start working on that.”

He gives Clary another brief hug before going out the door, and Alec is left staring after him. 

On his right, Clary clears her throat and raises an eyebrow at him in a very “well?” kind of gesture. Alec grits his teeth and walks right past her, into Magnus’ apartment.

“What? No ‘thank you’?” Clary says. “Jeez, colour me surprised. You know it wouldn’t kill you to—”

“You’re still Valentine’s daughter,” Alec cuts her off, crossing his arms over his chest. “The fact that you’re good at making other people trust you is all the more reason why I shouldn’t follow suit.” 

“No,” Clary says clearly, crossing her own arms as well. “I’m not. I don’t care what my genetics say—Luke’s my dad. He’s always been my dad. The memories I got back… You don’t get what that’s like, okay? Before, he was a family friend, and the guy dating my mom. And I mean, I really liked him? He was great to my mom and nice to me. But now that I remember? It’s like a puzzle piece I always knew I had but didn’t know what it was for has slotted into place, and now he’s also the guy who helped my mom take down the slimy demon that crept into our house when I was five. Who sat by my bed every night for _months_ afterwards and told me it was okay, to stop me from having nightmares. He’s the one who brought Dot ingredients for a potion my mom needed after she got bitten by a purple scaly thing when I was eight and the one who brought me to and from school every day while she was battling the poison. So, yeah, Valentine might be the one who fathered me, but _Luke’s_ my father. And no matter what happens with all of this, that won’t ever change, okay? He’s my dad. And my family sticks together, so I really don’t give a shit about what you think about any of us. Just get over yourself, will you?”

Alec looks back at her, completely stunned. Who the fuck does Clary Fray think she is to—

“Whoa, that’s _a lot_ of hostile energy,” Magnus says, appearing out of a portal next to them. “Biscuit, Alexander, please don’t kill each other in my hallway. Blood is horribly difficult to get out of a fifteenth century carpet, for one thing.”

“Hi, Magnus,” Clary says, some tension visibly going out of her shoulders. “Luke just left. He told me to thank you again for letting him stay here while he healed.”

“Oh, it was really no bother,” Magnus replies. “Now, run along, please. I’ve had a _very_ long morning.”

“I should go too,” Alec says, as soon as Clary’s gone. “There might be a lead on the Cup, and if you need rest, I—”

“I don’t need rest,” Magnus replies, cutting Alec off neatly by leaning in and pressing a soft kiss to his lips. “Good morning.”

“Good morning,” Alec manages, his voice barely more than a soft breath as his lips instinctively try to chase after Magnus’. “Seriously, though, I need to go down to the precinct. Finding the Mortal Cup is too important to leave anything to chance; I need to be there.”

“Okay,” Magnus says easily, pulling back with a smile on his lips. “How about you meet me at the hotel just down the street once you’re done? They do an amazing brunch, and I believe we still have half a date to catch up on?”

“The missing part isn’t brunch, though,” Alec replies and leans back in, grinning as he feels Magnus gasp. “But I guess we could start there?”

“You are evil, and I like it,” Magnus replies. “Oh, I almost forgot! Here, I got you a little something.”

He snaps his fingers and Alec feels as though warm air wraps around his entire body, removing the sweat from his run and leaving him feeling… not like he just had a shower, exactly, but more like he doesn’t need one for a while yet. He looks down, and his eyes widen; his training clothes are gone, and in their place are a pair of dark wash jeans and a short-sleeved button-up—dark navy, cotton, exactly the kind of shirt Alec feels comfortable in and nothing like what he would have expected Magnus to choose.

“I—uh,” he starts, words about how Magnus shouldn’t have at the tip of his tongue, until he notices the quietly happy expression on Magnus’ face. “Thank you.”

“My pleasure,” Magnus replies. “Here, I figured you’d want your jacket as well, so I summoned it from the Institute.”

Alec frowns. “You can do that? Even with the wards?”

“Well, yes. Your wards—from what I can tell—are set primarily to stop anyone who isn’t a Shadowhunter from entering. They’ve got very little, if anything at all, in terms of stopping people from moving items in or out. A gross oversight, if you ask me. Actually, you should probably look into improving that.”

“Thank you, I will,” Alec says, taking his jacket from Magnus and putting it on. “How do you feel about doing some contracting work?”

“Mixing business with pleasure?” Magnus asks, grinning. “I can’t say I’m opposed. Provided, of course, that the Clave is willing to pay my fee—being a High Warlock is somewhat of a luxury brand; we don’t really do discounts.”

“Duly noted,” Alec replies, grinning back at him. “I’ve really got to go. I’ll call you when I’m done, okay? And we’ll see about that brunch?”

“Looking forward to it. Now get out of my lair and stop distracting me. Hiding from Valentine has left me with a hefty backlog of client requests that I need to start working on.”

“Alright. So, bye?”

“Until later,” Magnus corrects, tilting his face up in clear invitation. 

Alec is all too happy to oblige.

He leaves Magnus’ place with lips that are still tingling, and with a definite spring in his step.

* * *

He can tell from the moment he arrives at the precinct that something is wrong. Clary, Jace and Izzy are standing outside talking, with matching grim looks on their faces.

“What’s wrong?”

“We don’t know,” Jace replies. “Luke got in trouble somehow. We saw some guys from Internal Affairs lead him away in handcuffs. Clary and I tried to get inside, but all we got out of that was me being slapped in the face. Twice.”

“I said I was sorry!” Clary exclaims. “I panicked, okay?”

“We need another strategy,” Izzy says. “Some kind of distraction to get one of us inside, then cut the lights and video while they get the Cup.”

“Or maybe Magnus can portal us inside?” Clary suggests. “That’d make things easier, right?”

“Magnus isn’t your pet warlock,” Alec says. “He’s got an actual job that doesn’t involved chasing after you, you know.”

“Yeah, but—”

“A warlock can only portal to places they’ve been to before, anyway,” Izzy interrupts. “And I doubt that Magnus Bane has ever set foot in this precinct, so let’s go for a different plan?”

“Fine, what do you suggest then?”

“We wait until the next shift change, Clary and Jace go back inside, get into the elevator and wait for my signal to climb up through the shaft and get into the evidence room,” Izzy replies. “Alec, you’re with me. We’ll be the distraction.”

“I hate being the distraction,” Alec complains, just loud enough that he knows Izzy can hear him. “Alright, fine. Let’s go then.”

Izzy pulls him with her, and together they walk into the lobby and take a seat in the waiting area. Alec passes the time flipping through mundane magazines while Izzy plays some kind of game on her phone, until, finally, police officers start filing out and new ones come in. Izzy gives him a brief nod, sends off a text to Jace and Clary and gets to her feet. They stop a short distance away from the information desk, and Izzy turns on her heel, putting her hands at the front of his shirt.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Alec demands, trying to push her hands away and failing.

“Unbuttoning your shirt, what does it look like?” Izzy replies. “It’s a very nice shirt, by the way. Getting some new clothes to impress Magnus?”

“No! I mean—should I? Oh God, he got this outfit for me, does that mean he hates my regular clothes? It does, doesn’t it?”

Izzy bites down on her lower lip, clearly keeping herself from laughing. “Don’t worry. From the way Magnus looks at you, I can safely say that he cares a lot more about getting you out of your clothes than about what you’re wearing. Which is a good thing. As long as you feel the same way?”

“Yeah, no, we’re not re-opening that topic,” Alec replies, buttoning a couple of the buttons Izzy got open back up again. “You’re still my baby sister, remember?” 

“Just looking out for you, bro,” Izzy says. “Seriously though? Liking someone doesn’t mean you have to do things with them that you’re not comfortable with. You can _always_ say no. And the same goes for Magnus, so make sure you pay attention to his signals. Okay?”

“Got it,” Alec says, doing his best to keep the blush he can feel creeping up his neck at bay. “Now, can we _please_ get back to the mission?”

“Ready when you are,” Izzy replies brightly and gives him a friendly shove in the direction of the information desk.

* * *

They are set upon by shapeshifting demons almost as soon as Clary and Jace come back out of the precinct, and their numbers rise fast—almost as though the demons can sense the proximity of the Cup.

Alec quickly scans their surroundings. There are mundanes everywhere, and if a fight breaks out where they are, there’s bound to be casualties.

“This way!” Clary calls out, and Alec hopes against hope that she actually knows her way around the place when Jace and Izzy immediately follow. They end up in some kind of basement, or subterranean system of connecting maintenance tunnels, and Alec grits his teeth, even as he accepts the fact that they’re currently out of options.

“Hey, what are you doing?” Jace asks, as Alec brings out his bow and quiver and takes up position in front of the door. (That’s one good thing at least: a single, narrow space only for demons to attack through.)

“Holding them off,” he replies, even though it should really be obvious. “Take Clary back to the Institute.”

“No. If you’re staying, I’m staying,” Jace says. “We fight together.”

Alec resists the urge to roll his eyes. He appreciates the gesture—especially after the last few days—but out in the field is the one place where their relationship has always been easy, and Alec would very much like to keep it that way. 

“Don’t be stupid,” he tells Jace. “If the demons get the Cup, we’re dead anyway.”

“I’m not leaving anyone behind!”

This time, Alec does roll his eyes. “You don’t have a choice.”

“I know you guys are having a moment, okay?” Clary cuts in. “But we really have to go.”

For one, glorious second, Alec thinks about how satisfying it would be to simply say ‘fuck this’ to the entire situation, confiscate Clary’s bag (where he assumes she has the Cup, if she did, indeed, manage to get it) and leave the girl to fend for herself. Instead, he takes a deep breath and opts for simply ignoring her.

“Don’t worry. It’s not like this is the first time Alec has saved your life,” Izzy says to Jace. “I doubt it’ll be the last.”

Jace looks between her and Alec, indecision written all over his face. If Alec asked him to stay right now, Jace probably would, even if it meant he couldn’t follow Clary. Something inside Alec’s chest settles at the thought—no matter how messed up the situation surrounding them might be at the moment, at least they still have each other’s backs in the field. 

“Go,” he tells Jace, drawing an arrow from his quiver and turning his focus to the door. 

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Jace give him a slight nod before he leaves after Izzy and Clary. Alec readies his bow and waits as the sounds of demons trying to break down the door grow louder.

* * *

He’s taken down half a dozen of the shapeshifters when Luke and parts of his pack arrive, wolfed out and deadly as they tear into the remaining demons with their teeth and claws. 

The fight lasts barely ten minutes after that, and Alec only hesitates for a moment before shouldering his bow, walking towards the werewolves carefully.

“Thanks for helping out.”

The wolf nearest to him looks up with brilliantly green eyes and then grows and morphs, until Luke is standing in front of him. Close behind him, the two other wolves follow suit, and one of them moves over to Luke’s right side—clearly Luke’s second in command. 

“Is Clary okay?” Luke demands. “Did she get what she was looking for?”

“She said she did,” Alec replies. “She’s with Jace and Izzy. They’re bringing her back to the Institute.”

“Good,” Luke says, and then looks to the people standing on either side of him. “Sorry, I’m being rude. Alec, meet Alaric and Maia, important members of my pack. Alaric and Maia, this is Alec Lightwood—current Head of the New York Institute.”

 _Acting Head,_ is on the tip of Alec’s tongue, and then he chooses to bite down on it, holding out his hand to each of the werewolves in turn instead. “Pleasure to meet you.”

“Likewise,” Alaric says, shaking his hand. Maia tilts her head to the side and narrows her eyes as she looks him up and down.

“Lightwood, huh?” she says. “Forgive me if I don’t shake your hand just yet.”

“The Circle did a lot of damage to our community,” Luke explains, pulling Alec’s attention back to himself. “Did any of the demons manage to get past you?”

“Not that I saw,” Alec replies. “It was a bit chaotic there for a while, but I’m pretty sure none of them did.”

“Good, then let’s go find Clary. This part of the precinct is old, and with all the tunnels running here and there, it’s easy to get lost,” Luke says. “Alaric, Maia, take the left tunnel north; I’ll go south with Alec.”

The other two werewolves quickly disappear around the nearest corner. Luke pulls out a small black instrument, hits a few buttons and then holds it out in front of himself, moving it in a slow half-circle back and forth.

“Heat radar,” he tells Alec. “There’s nothing at all within fifty yards. Let’s move.”

Alec grabs his bow and nocks an arrow, taking up the rear as they move through the tunnels. “You seem to know your way around?”

“I’ve been with the department since a year after I was turned,” Luke replies. “Wolves have a natural need to get to know their territory, and I always liked this place. I figure Clary brought you here? She and Simon used to play hide and seek down in these tunnels when they were in middle school and waiting for me to get off work so that I’d take them out for ice-cream.”

Alec nods. “What’s the fastest way to the Institute from here?”

“To the end of this tunnel and then west,” Luke replies. “By the way, I wanted to check how you were doing. After our last conversation and all.”

“I’m just fine,” Alec says, avoiding meeting Luke’s eye and making a show out of scanning their surroundings. “How are you adjusting to becoming the Alpha of your pack?”

“Not sure yet. I went straight from Magnus’ to here, and one of the first things that happened was me getting arrested,” Luke replies. “So I haven’t really had an opportunity to see anyone but Alaric and Maia yet. I imagine it’ll be an adjustment, though. A lot more responsibility.”

“I’m sure you’ll do great. Your pack already seems to accept you as the new leader.”

“Alaric and Maia have known me for years,” Luke replies. “And they’re good people. I wish I could say the same for every member of my pack, but unfortunately, there’s a few bad apples that’ll need weeding out. I just need to figure out what the proper protocol is to do it.”

“Yeah, I’m no help there, I’m afraid.”

“You know, back before the Uprising, there was some talk about revitalising the Accords,” Luke says. “Diplomatic relations between Shadowhunters and Downworlders, that sort of thing. It was only a small group of people pushing it, and it was lost in the chaos when the Circle started going rogue. But now… I’m the Alpha of my pack. My daughter is a Shadowhunter. There’s a new generation taking the reins of the Institute. Maybe it’s time to try again?”

Alec stops short, lowering his bow as he processes the words. There’s an immediate reaction of _not a chance_ rising up that he swiftly pushes down again. Those are his parents’ words, and, like he told Magnus, now that he knows the truth about their past, he doesn’t feel nearly as obliged to follow in their footsteps anymore.

At the same time, what Luke is hinting at has never been done. Even the Accords are a compromise at best, and it’s not only Shadowhunters and Downworlders that have bad blood with one another—even with Alec’s limited insight, it’s clear that none of the different factions get along.

“Seems like a very ambitious task,” he settles on, turning his face away to avoid seeing the disappointment he’s sure is there in Luke’s eyes.

To his complete surprise, Luke chuckles. “You can say that again.”

“Maybe even too ambitious?”

“Or maybe just ambitious enough,” Luke suggests. “I’m not saying it’d be easy. Quite the opposite. I mean, the vamps alone… Have you ever met Camille Belcourt? I’ve only seen her from a distance and she still managed to give me the creeps.”

“That doesn’t sound very promising.”

“She kidnapped Simon,” Luke says, voice hardening. “Clary wouldn’t tell me the details, but I know the vamps had him for a while. That does not put me in a friendly mood, let me tell you. But still, sacrifices need to be made sometimes, for the greater good.”

“Izzy has a great rapport with the Seelies,” Alec says, the idea taking flight in his mind. “And with the way Valentine is actively hunting warlocks, they might be in a position to consider an alliance.”

“I can feel Magnus out, see if he’s open to the idea,” Luke suggests. “Unless you’d like to do it?”

“No, that’s—I mean, I can do it,” Alec says quickly. “I need to head over later anyway. For, um, some additional information. Paperwork.”

“He’s all yours, then,” Luke replies, and even though there’s nothing in his voice to suggest that he’s implying anything, Alec still feels the back of his neck grow hot. He checks his watch surreptitiously; waiting for the right window to break into the precinct already ruined his and Magnus’ plan to have brunch, and now even lunch is starting to look less and less likely.

“The vamps are definitely a problem, though,” Luke continues. “To be honest, I’m not sure if the rest of my pack would even agree to work with them. The bad blood between us and them go back a long time.”

“But you’re the Alpha now. They’ll have to follow your lead.”

Luke looks back at him, frowning. “Technically, yeah, but at what cost? Or is that how you would get the backing of the Institute? Just pull rank on everyone until they fall in line?”

“Of course not. But, I mean, it’s different, isn’t it? At the Institute, it would be about following orders; for you guys, there’s the whole pack thing. Instincts. The compulsion to follow your Alpha no matter what.”

“That’s a load of bullshit,” Luke says, and Alec’s attention snaps back to him in surprise. “We may look like animals sometimes, but that doesn’t mean we are. Sure, some experiences and senses are different when you’re a wolf, and you’re definitely vulnerable to your impulses during the time when you first transition, but to anyone but a new wolf, our minds are still our own, and anyone who tells you differently is furthering an agenda.”

“I just meant that—”

“That’s how werewolves tick, according to the Clave?” Luke supplies. “I know. That doesn’t mean I’m not going to call you out when you buy into it.”

His voice is still calm and deceivingly pleasant. Alec feels a sting of uncertainty and a growing sense of unease, as though the ground under his feet is a lot less solid than he assumed it to be.

Luke stops in front of him and turns to face him fully, and Alec lowers his bow.

“From what I can tell, Alec, you’re driven and focused, which are good qualities in a leader. But you’re also young, and the Clave is a very sheltering and prejudiced environment,” Luke tells him bluntly. “I thought I knew what werewolves were like when I was turned—and I was terrified for years afterwards that I would suddenly lose control and hurt someone. But I was wrong then, and you are wrong now. You’re most likely wrong about a lot of other things as well. Question is, are you willing to unlearn what you know?”

Alec feels himself automatically straighten to stand up taller and has to clamp down on the impulse to cross his arms and reply with something cutting. The feeling of unease grows stronger inside him, and he wants nothing more than to shut that down as well. Sure, Luke might have almost twenty years on him, but Alec has been the Acting Head of the Institute for almost five years, and he’s been out in the field extensively since even before that—he’s not exactly a newbie (unlike some red-headed Shadowhunters he could name). 

“I’m well aware that the Clave has an agenda,” he says. “But are you seriously expecting me to believe that you—the brand new Alpha of the New York pack—don’t?”

“Alright, don’t take my word for it,” Luke replies. “But go back to the Institute and pick out ten reports at random where werewolves were involved and I can pretty much guarantee that you’ll see some interesting patterns appear.”

“Like what?”

“I’ll let you find out for yourself,” Luke says. “I’ve been down this road myself, and with Jocelyn—picking apart what the Clave has taught you is a long and slow process, and, as you pointed out, I have a lot of other work to do.”

Alec closes his eyes in frustration and slowly counts to ten. “Fine, whatever. Meanwhile, your _daughter_ is still out there wrecking havoc, so maybe we can focus on finding her?”

“Couldn’t agree more,” Luke replies. “We have a fork coming up after we round the next corner, so pay extra attention to our eight o’ clock. If the demons got in another way, the ventilation shaft that crosses it is a great place to hide.”

Alec nods shortly and readies his bow. “Lead the way, then.”

* * *

Some hours later, Alec finds himself back in front of Magnus’ building, pressing the buzzer for the front door. He’s just starting to resign himself to the fact that Magnus isn’t home (and berating himself for not calling before he made his way over), when there’s a static noise coming from the intercom, followed by a loud buzz as the door clicks open.

He suppresses a sigh of relief and hurries up the steps, apprehension hitting him when he arrives on Magnus’ floor and finds the door to his loft ajar.

He has his bow up instantly, inching through the open door and moving quietly through the hallway. The first few rooms he checks show no signs of intruders, and nothing looks out of place or like there’s been a struggle.

Alec continues through the main hallway to the living room, finding it similarly empty, but more like Magnus has been moving through it recently. Books and rolls of parchment are littering the coffee table, and a half-eaten sandwich and an empty glass are sitting out next to them.

“Magnus? You here?”

“In my study,” Magnus voice calls back from the direction of his magic room, and Alec feels the tension go out of his shoulders. “Please make yourself comfortable, I’m just finishing up with something and then I’ll be right out.”

Alec puts away his bow, looks around and walks over to the first chair he spots, sitting down for a few seconds before getting to his feet again. His whole body is thrumming with nervous energy and he still feels on edge and conflicted, even after running most of the way here.

As it turns out, knowing Jace had a thing for Clary and watching the two of them make out in the middle of the Ops Center are two very different things. Alec supposes what he’s feeling is jealousy—except it doesn’t feel anything like what he’s felt before.

In the past, seeing Jace with someone would elicit a hollow, empty ache deep in his gut. What he’s feeling right now is a strange sort of burn, starting at the centre of his _parabatai_ rune and spreading outwards, like an infection that’s inching its way forward, slithering just beneath his skin.

He slumps down on the couch, suddenly feeling faint.

“So sorry to keep you waiting, darling,” Magnus says, interrupting Alec’s increasingly uneasy thoughts. “There’s this client in Vermont who simply does not know how to take no for an answer, and I—” He turns the corner and catches sight of Alec’s face. “What’s wrong?”

Alec wants to brush it off. He also hasn’t eaten all day, and being in Magnus’ living room is reminding him of their first date—how good it felt to just sit across from him and make small talk while the most delicious food was melting in his mouth.

Instead, he starts shaking. He hunches over and wraps his arms around himself to stop it, but without success. The pain spreading through his abdomen is getting steadily worse, and if it goes much higher, he’s going to find himself throwing up all over Magnus’ beautiful, lush carpet.

He looks up at Magnus pleadingly, but can’t get any words out of his throat. Magnus’ shocked expression turns serious and focused, and Alec gasps in relief as Magnus’ magic rolls in, seeping through every pore and chasing off the pain as it flows through him.

Magnus reaches out and pulls Alec’s shirt out of his pants, sliding a hand underneath the fabric to place it directly over Alec’s rune. The surge of magic that follows is like an ice-pack to a fresh bruise, and Alec can’t quite hold back a moan as the pain is pushed back to a single, burning point and then fades entirely.

He opens his eyes, not registering when he closed them to begin with, and find that his left hand is curled tightly around Magnus’ right one.

“Thank you,” he mumbles, slumping back against the back of the couch, completely exhausted. “Seriously, _thank you so much_.”

“How long has your bond been acting up like this?” Magnus asks. “I realise you don’t want to talk about the details, but if you could just tell me how long it’s been since the last suppression spell was made, I promise I’ll leave the rest of it alone.”

“What are you talking about?” Alec manages, already three quarters asleep now that the pain is gone.

“Alec, this isn’t a joke,” Magnus replies. “The dampener on your _parabatai_ bond is growing weaker, and believe me when I say that you will not like the results if it wears off entirely. I need to know when it was last added to if I’m going to be able to help you balance it.”

“I’m not sure what you want me to say,” Alec says, pushing himself into more of a sitting position. “But now that we’re talking about magic, I remember I needed to ask you something important: is your magic always blue?”

Magnus frowns. The hand on Alec’s hip lingers in place, sending little waves of cool magic into Alec’s skin every couple of seconds. 

“In its natural state, yes,” he replies. “Why are you asking?”

“Could you make it another colour as well?”

“Sure,” Magnus says, sounding bewildered even as he lets go of Alec’s hand and holds up his palm between them. He lets a ball of blue magic hover over it, then changes the blue to red, then white, then green. “It’s mostly just cosmetic, though. At the core of it, it’ll always be blue.”

“Could you keep another colour for a whole spell?” Alec asks. “Even a big one.”

“Hypothetically yes, but it’d take a lot of focus which I’d probably be better off using for the spell itself,” Magnus replies. “Why these particular questions? Is this about your memories?”

“Yeah, I, um, have these dreams sometimes,” Alec admits. “Things that don’t match up with reality, or at least not the way I know it. And there’s this light—bright yellow—that’s always there. I was wondering if it might be, you know, a lead to find whoever did the spell.”

“That’s… not at all a bad idea,” Magnus says, closing his hand and making the ball of light pop out of existence. “I need you to answer my question first, though. Your bond with Jace, how long has it been since your last suppression spell?”

“I really have no idea what you mean,” Alec mumbles, closing his eyes as his body starts shutting down, both from exhaustion and the drowsy, floating feeling that seems to originate from the spot where Magnus’ magic is connecting with his body.

“ _Fine,_ I’ll just add a general one for now,” Magnus’ says, and Alec frowns to himself at the frustrated tone in Magnus’ voice. “We _will_ talk about this sooner rather than later, though, so pushing it in front of yourself like this isn’t going to help you in the long run.”

“Mhm,” Alec agrees, reaching out so he can take Magnus’ other hand in his again. “I really like talking to you.”

“You’re absolutely useless to get information from like this,” Magnus says, smiling slightly at the end. “Come on, let’s get you into bed.”

He slides one arm behind Alec’s back and the other beneath his knees, easily lifting him off the couch and placing him on his feet before starting to half-walk, half-carry him towards the back hallway.

“I was going to take you out to dinner first,” Alec murmurs, holding on tight and burying his face against Magnus’ neck as they enter Magnus’ bedroom and make their way towards the bed. “I had a whole plan—a nice place picked out and everything.”

Magnus chuckles, and the sound vibrates through the skin of his throat to Alec’s lips, sending a surge of heat through him. Alec parts his lips a fraction, moving his head to the side to drag them over the warm skin of Magnus’ throat, another thrill going through him when Magnus stumbles, ever so slightly.

“Bed,” Magnus says firmly. “Sleep now; wine and dine and hopefully sixty-nine me later.”

Alec leans into the touch and lets Magnus move them forward, closing his eyes as they go.

‘Sleep now’ sounds like an excellent idea.


	5. Next Steps

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alec and Magnus have breakfast together, Izzy helps with investigating the lost memories, and Maryse and Robert are the Worst Parents Ever ™

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this chapter took so long. I got blocked for a while. Thanks to my amazing betas, everything is back on track again, however, so that feels really good. :)
> 
> Thank you so much to everyone who left a comment on the last chapter and/or reblogged anything about the fic on tumblr. You really helped me pull through my funk. <3
> 
> _Also: warnings for Maryse and Robert being awful parents in this chapter. More awful than usual, that is. "Homophobic asshats" is probably a pretty accurate description, if still too nice._

Alec wakes up to the smell of freshly brewed coffee. His memories from the night before are blurry, and there’s a dull ache in his lower abdomen that makes him sit up carefully to take a closer look. His _parabatai_ rune is a little red around the edges, and Alec frowns as some of last night comes back to him. Pain, more pain, and then Magnus by his side soothing it with his magic.

Alec feels his heart skip a beat as he looks over to the other side of the bed. It’s empty, but some traces of Magnus still linger: the dent in the pillow, a faint smell of cologne. 

He spent the night. In Magnus’ bed. Izzy is going to tease him forever.

He finds his clothes on a nearby chair together with a thick, fluffy towel. Alec hesitates for a moment, then decides that, yes, a shower _would_ be nice, and makes his way to Magnus’ ensuite bathroom. He spends some time just looking around at everything before actually making it into the shower. There’s just so much stuff everywhere—shelves and shelves of little bottles and cans and boxes, out of which Alec recognises only a few.

It’s nice. More than nice—like a peek behind the curtain of Magnus Bane, High Warlock, at the man living underneath. Alec picks up a small can and screws off the lid, lifts it to his nose and breathes in deeply. The glossy cream smells like the first day of spring. Alec smiles and puts it back on the shelf.

Magnus is moving around his kitchen when Alec finally makes it out of the shower. Some kind of happy, upbeat music that Alec doesn’t recognise is playing from a speaker on the kitchen counter, and Magnus is singing along to it, swaying from side to side as he pokes at something on the stove.

Alec leans against the door post for a while, just watching, a quiet sort of happiness settling in his chest. It’s only been days since he and Magnus met, and it seems impossible to Alec that so much could have happened in such a short amount of time. 

And still... 

Alec crosses the floor and sidles up next to Magnus, putting a light hand at the small of his back. “What are you making?”

“Just some omelets,” Magnus replies, smiling as he shifts his weight a little, leaning into Alec’s touch. “What would you like on yours?”

“What do you have?”

“Anything you can think of, I can summon,” Magnus says. “So go for it.”

“Okay, um—then maybe some spicy sausage? And cheese and mushrooms, please.”

“Coming right up,” Magnus replies happily, lifting the omelet in his skillet onto a plate and reaching for a bowl of egg batter. He pours in a generous amount, snaps his fingers to add the things Alec asked for and then turns half-way around, leaning in to place a sweet kiss on Alec’s lips. “Good morning. Did you sleep well?”

The happiness in Alec’s chest intensifies. He leans in for another kiss, loving the way his smile brushes against Magnus’ before their lips part. The kiss is easy and unrushed, and Alec loves every second of it.

“I slept really well,” he answers, once they break apart again. “Thanks for letting me stay over.”

“My pleasure,” Magnus says. “Now, about your bond…”

Alec takes a step back and sighs, drawing a hand through his hair. “Can we… not? I mean, I know we need to figure things out but, could we just—do it after breakfast?”

“Alec…”

“I know. It’s just… this is so nice. I’ve never actually done this—the whole morning after thing. Not that this is—I mean, I know we didn’t actually _do_ anything, and that’s probably a—I mean—” He breaks off, frustrated with himself, flushing slightly as he meets Magnus’ amused eyes. “I just want to hang on to this feeling for a while longer. Please?”

Magnus smiles at him and then rolls his eyes dramatically. “ _Fine_. We can have breakfast first. Coffee?”

“Thank you,” Alec says, stepping in close again and wrapping his arms around Magnus’ waist. He lowers his head and places a kiss to the back of Magnus’ neck, a thrill going through him as Magnus shivers at the touch. “Coffee sounds perfect.”

* * *

“I talked to Luke yesterday,” Alec says, as they’re sitting out on Magnus’ balcony, looking out over the Brooklyn bridge and enjoying their breakfast in the mysteriously warm weather that seems to exist only in a bubble around the two of them. “When we were looking for Clary and the others to regroup. He pitched the idea to form an alliance.”

“Interesting. Though I guess it makes sense,” Magnus replies. “I mean, he is a werewolf with a family of Shadowhunters, after all.”

“Yeah, but he wants to go beyond that, I think. Like, to include all of the Shadow World.”

Magnus raises a sceptical eyebrow and then takes a long sip from his cup. “Well. He aims high, I’ll give him that.”

“So you don’t think it’s a good idea?”

“I didn’t say that,” Magnus replies. “It’s just—I’ve been around for a long time, and last time there was a peace conference, I had to watch almost half a dozen of my people get slaughtered. Things like that tend to make you somewhat cynical.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It is what it is. Then again, with every new generation comes new possibility for change.”

“So you think it could be done?”

“Maybe,” Magnus says simply. “I guess you’ll never know if you don’t try. That’s what you’re really asking, isn’t it?”

“I, uh. Yeah, I guess,” Alec replies, taken aback by how precisely Magnus’ words hit their target. “Also, you’re the High Warlock of Brooklyn and know a lot more about Downworlder politics than I do. So if you think it could be done…”

“Alexander, if you haven’t noticed already, I’m rather embarrassingly prejudiced in your favour,” Magnus says with a half-smile. “I haven’t known you long, but I’m already incredibly impressed with what I’ve seen.”

“That’s not really an answer.”

“Well, it’s what I’m able to give you right now,” Magnus replies. “I’m sorry it’s not what you’re looking for.”

He meets Alec’s eyes, and even though the expression on Magnus’ face is still smiling and pleasant, there’s a hint of wariness in his eyes that makes Alec pause. He looks away first, reaching for a piece of bread and pulling tiny chunks out of it to have something to do with his hands.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to push.”

Magnus’ hand comes down on his knee, just resting there for a moment. Alec puts his own on top of it, and the silence that settles between them doesn’t feel oppressive or cold. Instead, it’s a little like a sunrise: calm and quiet, but with an undertone of newness and possibility.

“The vampires would definitely be a problem for you,” Magnus says after a while, making Alec look up in surprise. “Camille is not a team player, to put things mildly. I doubt she’d be interested in something like an alliance, and if she claimed to be, I’d be ten times more wary.”

Alec nods in understanding. “Sounds like you know her well?”

“Far better than I would like to, in retrospect,” Magnus replies with a sigh. “You’ll find out soon enough that with Camille, there’s always some bad blood. A lot of the time quite literally.”

Alec hesitates, the next question he wants to ask at the tip of his tongue. It’s probably too personal, but at the same time, Magnus has been extremely open with him so far, and Alec finds that he trusts him in this—trusts Magnus to tell him no if he steps over a line. 

“Your file at the Institute says that the two of you were lovers?” he says, his voice rising a bit in question at the end. Magnus looks back at him, and Alec can see a hint of conflict in his eyes before he gives Alec a small smile and pulls his hand away, wrapping it back around his cup instead.

“I believed so for a long time. I was enthralled by her and foolish enough to think she felt the same way. Turned out, I was just one of many things she liked to play with to pass the time.”

“That’s fucked up.”

“Some would say it’s life,” Magnus replies. “But no matter. It was more than a century ago; I’m quite recovered by now.”

“Good,” Alec says firmly. “So how can I work around her?”

“Depends,” Magnus says, and then a slow, mischievous smile spreads across his lips. “How do you feel about a little coup d’état?”

“As a responsible Head of an Institute, I’m very much against. Go on.”

Magnus unsuccessfully tries to hide a grin behind his cup. “Raphael Santiago, Camille’s second in command. I’ve known him since he was turned, and he’s always had a sense of honour and a deep need for community that Camille never had. If I were you, I’d go see him.”

“I know him already,” Alec replies. “He was there when we rescued Simon. At the time, I thought he was just making a bargain to save his own skin, but maybe I misjudged him.”

“To be honest, you probably did. I’m not saying Raphael isn’t smart. He is—immensely so, and if he could make a bargain that would further the interests of his Clan, then he definitely would. But there’s a lot more to him than that. He’s a very good man.”

“He might not want to listen to anything I have to say, though. We, um—Simon was in danger and Clary was going after him no matter what, so.” He swallows, suddenly seeing the scene where Raphael pushed Simon at them and told them to get out in a whole different light. “We—if I were him, I don’t think I’d be very willing to cooperate.”

Before Magnus can say anything in return, a flame appears in front of them, leaving a letter in its wake. Magnus grabs it and reads it over. He’s on his feet in seconds.

“I’m sorry, I’ve got to go.”

“Is everything alright?” Alec asks automatically, getting up as well.

“No. But if I go right away, I might be able to stave off the worst of it. I’m sorry to cut this short.” Magnus sends off a burst of sparks in the direction of the door. “There, my wards should let you in and out now, even without me here. Feel free to stay and finish your coffee. I have to—”

“Do you need help?”

“Sorry, I _really_ have to go,” Magnus says in reply, shooting Alec an apologetic smile over his shoulder as he conjures and disappears through a portal.

Alec stares after him, and then reaches out and grabs the still half-full cup of coffee Magnus left behind. He brings their dishes to the kitchen and puts them in the sink, unable to hold back a shiver at the memory that flashes before his eyes as he does so.

He checks his watch and sighs; as much as he doesn’t want to, he really should go back to the Institute.

 _Stay safe,_ he texts Magnus before he leaves. _Call if I can help._

His phone stays silent the whole trip home.

* * *

Alec does his best to look inconspicuous as he walks back into the Institute, which of course means that one of the first people he meets is Izzy—who takes one look at him and then raises an inquisitive eyebrow.

“Spent the night at Magnus’ place?”

Something about the way she says it makes Alec pause. She’s grinning at him, but it doesn’t reach her eyes, and something about the teasing remark feels like it’s made on autopilot.

“Are you okay?” he asks quietly, taking hold of Izzy’s elbow and steering them a bit further out of the way of the other Shadowhunters milling about. “Did something happen?”

Izzy hesitates, and that’s confirmation in itself. Alec looks around them to make sure no one else is watching and leans in closer so that he’s effectively blocking Izzy from view. “Iz, what’s wrong?”

“Simon’s dead,” Izzy tells him, an uncharacteristic tremble to her voice. “Camille killed him sometime during the night. Raphael brought his body here for Clary just before sunrise.”

“Oh my God, Iz, I’m sorry.”

“They’re down at the crypt in the basement,” Izzy continues. “Jace stayed with them, but I just couldn’t—I couldn’t just sit there and _watch_ him lie there dead and listen to Clary cry.”

Alec pulls her into a tight hug, feeling utterly helpless as his sister starts to tremble in his arms. “Is there anything I can do?”

“No. Not right now,” Izzy replies eventually, pulling back and making a brave attempt at smiling. “Clary’s going to go break the news to his family, and then tonight… she’ll have to stake him through the heart. Can you even—?” She swallows thickly. “I think she just wants to be alone right now. Take today to say goodbye.”

“Of course, yeah,” Alec says, squeezing her shoulder a little harder. “I’ll make sure no one asks for them—as far as I’m able to, at least.”

“Thank you,” Izzy replies, her smile a tiny bit brighter. “Oh God, I’m such a mess. I don’t even know why this is hitting me so hard, I mean, I barely even know him, and still—”

“He’s still a person,” Alec fills in. “It’s good that you care. I’m sure Clary will appreciate it, too.”

“It just sucks,” Izzy says hollowly. “All of this. Fighting and training and _dying_ and for what, exactly? To be here for the next group of demons that come along and then repeat it all over again?”

“Hey, _Izzy_ ,” Alec says, ducking his head down to get his sister to properly look at him. “What we’re doing, it’s for a _good_ cause. I know it seems hopeless sometimes, but the fact that we’re out there keeps people safer. We keep the demons at bay, and we do save people’s lives.”

“Yeah, except this one,” Izzy replies quietly, and then bites down on her lower lip. “By the angel, I can’t even imagine—if you or Jace…”

“Jace and I are going to keep on being just fine,” Alec tells her firmly. “We’re _parabatai_ , remember? Our bond makes us twice as strong as your regular Shadowhunter, _and_ we’ve been training together forever. We’re not going to let a thirsty vampire or a renegade demon ruin that.”

“Well, at least both of your egos are inflated enough for you to fly away from danger with,” Izzy replies, and Alec is relieved to see some of her humour return. “Okay, enough moping. Tell me about your night with Magnus! Did you have a _magical_ time?”

“You are going to come up with every bad magic joke there is, aren’t you?” Alec asks, rolling his eyes, mostly just for show. “And nothing happened—not that I would tell you if it did. I went over, we talked, the bond acted up, and Magnus helped dull the pain of it. And then I fell asleep. That’s all, promise.”

“Aw, that is so sweet!” Izzy exclaims. Then she pauses, and her face falls. “Wait. Your bond acted up? Your _parabatai_ bond? What happened?”

Alec silently curses himself for letting it slip. With the day Izzy’s having, piling more potential problems on her really isn’t something he wants to do. 

“I’m sure it’s nothing,” he tries. “It might have something to do with the removed memories—apparently there’s some kind of magic pressing down on the bond, and Magnus thinks the two are related.”

“Okay,” Izzy says carefully. “So what do we do about it? What’s the next step?”

“It’s really nothing to worry about,” Alec tries again; Izzy simply glares at him. “Okay, fine. I was going to start looking into some local warlocks and go through the Institute files—see if there are any warlocks mentioned in cases involving me or Jace that I don’t remember meeting. That sort of thing.”

“Good,” Izzy says. “Let’s start right now. After you.”

“You’re the most stubborn person ever, you know that, right?” Alec grumbles, even as he falls into step beside her.

“I love you too,” Izzy tells him sweetly and takes a left turn into the next corridor.

* * *

“Anything?”

They’ve been looking through files for what feels like hours, and while Alec does have a growing pile of files that might be of interest next to him, there are still so many left to go through.

“Just more instances of the Clave being massive dicks to Downworlders,” Izzy says with disgust, gesturing with the file she’s holding. “This one here? A Warlock gets attacked by demons and goes in to defend himself. A Shadowhunter manages to get caught in the crossfire, and the Warlock is then blackmailed into strengthening the wards of the Institute without pay—to avoid getting prosecuted by the Clave for ‘reckless endangerment of a Shadowhunter child’. I mean, come on!”

“Let me see that,” Alec replies, holding his hand out and accepting the file from Izzy. “When was this?”

“Four years ago, give or take,” Izzy replies. “The names of the Warlock and the Shadowhunter have been redacted of course, since there was an underage Shadowhunter involved. Seriously though! The guy was being attacked by at least two demons. I’d say he had a right to defend himself.”

“Yeah, but… _Izzy_ ,” Alec says, feeling excitement start to bubble up inside him as he skims the contents of the file. “Four years ago, I was nineteen. Mom and dad had already started spending most of their time in Idris. Meaning I should have been the one to file this report, and I wasn’t. Look, _co-signed_ , by mom and dad. And what’s more: _I don’t remember this_. A child at our Institute was hurt by a spell and I don’t remember it? That’s bullshit. First of all, there _were_ no children at the Institute four years ago. Max was living in Idris, the Aldertrees left with their kids for Alicante right after I turned eighteen. You would have been eighteen by then, and Jace—” he trails off, realisation hitting him.

“Jace would have still been seventeen,” Izzy says, echoing Alec’s thoughts. “And he was out plenty in the field by then.”

“Never without me, though,” Alec replies, wracking his brain as he tries to think back. “Not before he turned eighteen. I wouldn’t let him. I followed him _everywhere_ , just to make sure he was okay.”

“Wait, I think I remember this,” Izzy says, frowning. “It’s like… you know when you have a dream, and you wake up, and you still remember the dream perfectly, but you don’t _remember_ it? Like, you know it’s there, and it’s so close still, but you can’t pin it down or articulate what it was about? It’s like that: I remember this, I know what happened, but I can’t… pull it forward, for some reason.”

“ _Massive blast damage to Ops Centre. Collapsed ceiling in adjacent corridors. Full power black-out. Eight Shadowhunters injured,_ ” Alec reads, his eyes widening. “Izzy, this is crazy. A major magical accident _inside_ the Institute, and neither of us quite remember it? And worse, I… kind of feel like I don’t care? Like, I have the same feeling as you that I _do_ remember this, but it’s like my brain is trying to actively dismiss it.”

“We should take this to Magnus,” Izzy replies. “But I think it’s safe to say that we found the right file. I’d call Jace as well, to see if his memories differ from ours, but with what’s going on...”

“Yeah, no, it can wait another day or two,” Alec says. He pulls out his phone and opens up his latest text conversation with Magnus, feeling a sting of unease when he sees that his messages from earlier that morning are still listed as ‘unread’.

 _At the Institute, found a file in the archives that looks promising,_ he sends. And then, after a moment of debating back and forth with himself, he writes out, _I haven’t heard back from you. Are you okay?_ , before deleting it again.

“Everything alright?” Izzy asks, and Alec quickly locks his screen and puts his phone back in his pocket. He’s just being silly. Magnus is a High Warlock; he can definitely take care of himself.

“Just fine. Hey, it’s almost noon. Want to go grab some lunch before we get back to our regular duties?”

* * *

They pack up the rest of the files and leave the archive, the file they found hidden away in a non-descript leather portfolio.

“Why don’t we get out of here for an hour?” Alec suggests, “Go get sandwiches and sit in the park or something? We could—”

“Alec! Izzy!”

Alec turns around, a surprised smile spreading on his face as he sees their youngest brother come running towards them, practically throwing himself against Alec’s body.

“Max! What are you doing here?”

“Mom and dad came to get me and said I could come home to visit for a few days,” Max replies, beaming back at him. “I didn’t even get in trouble this time, I swear!”

“Now, that I flat out don’t believe,” Izzy says, pulling Max into a hug of her own and getting in a tickle while she’s at it. “Come here, you little devil. I’m going to eat you up for lunch, I’m—”

Max shrieks in delight as Izzy continues to tickle him, and Alec is just about to join in when his parents round the corner.

His mother raises an eyebrow, and Izzy immediately stops what she’s doing and gets to her feet, her face suddenly guarded.

“Mom, dad.”

“Isabelle, why don’t you take Max and go see about getting him some lunch?” Maryse asks. “Your father and I need to have a word with Alec.”

“Actually, we were just heading out,” Izzy replies, with a quick look in Alec’s direction. “Maybe we could all go to lunch together, and then—”

“It won’t take long,” Maryse interrupts her, a clear note of dismissal in her voice. 

Alec meets Izzy’s eyes and gives her a small nod. “Go ahead. I’ll catch up.”

“Alright,” Izzy says, opening her mouth as though she wants to say something more, and then snapping it shut and turning her attention to Max instead. “Come on, Max, let’s go down to the park and see if we can find the mundane who sells those hot dogs you like so much.”

Max jumps up and down in approval, taking Izzy’s hand and practically dragging her down the hallway with him, talking Izzy’s ear off about his latest adventures in Mumbai and making her laugh delightedly.

“She’s too soft with him,” Maryse comments, looking after them.

“He’s only eight,” Alec counters. “He’s still a little kid, and Izzy’s great with him.”

“He needs discipline, not indulgence,” Maryse says. “When you were eight, you were learning Greek, not… running around with your friends and playing pranks on your tutors.”

“Well, maybe I should have,” Alec replies, crossing his arms over his chest. “What did you want to see me about?”

“Maybe we could go into our office?” Robert suggests, and the friendly smile he sends Alec puts him more on edge than his mom’s openly hostile mood.

Still, he nods. “Of course. After you.”

As soon as they get into the Head office, his mom moves around the desk to take a seat behind it. His father is next to make his move, walking around the desk as well to stand next to her. It’s a blatant display of power, building on years and years of Alec getting called into this very office and told to sit down for whatever lecture they wanted to give him.

Alec steels himself and stands up a little straighter, puts his hands behind his back and makes an effort to relax his stance.

“Have a seat, Alec,” his mom says, gesturing at one of the visitors’ chairs in front of the desk. Alec feels his anger rise.

“I would, but it’s been taken,” he says, clearly shocking them. “So if we could get to the point?”

His mom’s eyes harden. “Very well. We wanted to discuss the unpleasantness of the bomb you decided to drop on us the last time we spoke.”

“Oh really? And what ‘unpleasantness’ would that be?”

“Alec, there’s no need for these kind of games,” his dad says gently. “If you’re not ready to get married yet, you can wait a while longer. You don’t need to make up lies to—” 

“Lies?” Alec cuts in, impressed at himself for managing to keep his voice as impassive as he does. “I told you the truth—I’m gay. I’m not going to marry a woman and make both of us miserable for the rest of our lives. What you’re suggesting, _that’s_ a lie. And I’m not going to play along with it anymore.”

“What has gotten into you?!” his mom exclaims. “By the angel, Alec, it’s like I don’t even recognise you anymore.”

Alec takes a deep breath and reminds himself that yelling at his mom won’t help him get his point across. “I’m the same person I’ve always been,” he says, looking his parents straight in the eye. “Now everything’s just out in the open.”

“Alec, did something happen?” his dad tries. “Did someone… hurt you, to turn you into this?”

Alec feels his entire body stiffen, scenarios of what his parents’ reactions would be if he ever brought someone home playing out with crystal clarity in front of his eyes. Even worse if that someone were a Downworlder—like a Warlock, with centuries of experience and powerful magic at his fingertips. _Fuck_.

“No, dad, no one’s ‘hurt’ me,” he manages. “This is just who I am.”

“Think of Max,” his mom says, imploringly. “Like you said, he’s just a child. Think of the damage it could cause him to see—”

Alec feels his anger flare again. It’s good. Anger is good, productive, _easy_.

“See what?” he says coolly. “His big brother falling in love with someone? Maybe even being happy for a change?”

“It’s a perversion!” Maryse throws back. “What if you bring someone over and he sees—what if the Clave finds out? You could cost our family this Institute, Alec, over some _phase_ you seem to think you’re going through. And we can’t let you do that.”

The threat is barely even veiled, and Alec supposes he should be proud of himself for apparently playing the part of the dutiful son so well for so long that his parents have no idea what he’s really capable of. It’s clear from everything they’re saying, how they’re sitting, from the looks on their faces, that they fully expect him to fall in line—like him coming out to them is just some act of rebellion, a temper tantrum. 

Alec thinks back on the last few days, of how the air felt easier to breathe and the complete elation he experienced from something so simple as looking at another person, feeling attracted to them and allowing that feeling in. There’s so much more, like Izzy’s unwavering support and the addictive heat of Magnus’ kisses, but the thing that stands out the most is how much lighter he’s felt since saying the words ‘I’m gay’ out loud.

He closes his eyes for a moment, steeling himself for what he knows he must do.

“Thank you,” he says, lowering his head in a sign of surrender and swallowing thickly. “I’ll take it under advisement.”

“Alec, we just want what’s best for you,” his dad says. “For you and your siblings. You all mean the world to us.”

“I know you do,” he replies, and doesn’t have to fake the tremble that runs through him.

His parents share a small, proud smile between them, and his mom gets to her feet.

“It’s for your own good,” she says, coming around the desk to stand in front of Alec. She pulls him in for a half-hug and Alec does his best not to stiffen at the touch. “We just want you to be happy, and we will help you beat this. It’ll all be okay, you’ll see.”

“Yeah. I, um—could you just give me a moment?” Alec asks. “I don’t want Max or Izzy…”

“Of course,” his mom replies, letting go of him and putting an approving hand on his shoulder. “We’ll go join them for lunch, give you a little space.”

“We love you, son,” his dad says, clapping Alec on the shoulder as well as he walks past him, and the worst part about it is that Alec knows that he believes he means it.

It makes what he’ll need to do next both easier and harder.

Alec waits until he’s sure both of his parents are far away from his office and then swiftly walks over to his desk and pulls out his stele and a piece of paper.

The note he sends to the Clave is short and to the point, and Alec sits back in his chair once it’s gone in a flash of flames to wait for a reply. It shows up less than a couple of minutes later, and Alec reads it through, writes down a new note with a set of instructions and sends that one off as well.

The second reply he gets confirms the arrangements, and Alec takes care to burn all evidence of the correspondence before getting to his feet and taking a deep breath, trying to centre himself.

He walks briskly through the Institute, sending the few Shadowhunters who are still at their stations away on minor errands before going over to open the secret safe in the floor, taking out the tarot card lying inside and putting it in the inside pocket of his jacket before closing the safe again.

He makes another quick round of the main Institute, just to make sure that no one is lingering, and then heads over to the Idris portal to wait, his heart hammering in his chest.

It’s less than five minutes before the portal shimmers and a person steps through—a young woman with blonde, braided hair, dressed in a business suit.

“Welcome to the New York Institute,” Alec says, holding out his hand for her to shake. “Alec Lightwood, Acting Head.”

“Lydia Branwell, High Inquisitor’s Office,” the woman replies. “Let’s get these negotiations started, shall we?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you like the fic, please help reblog the [fic masterpost](http://actuallyredorchid.tumblr.com/post/148805449665/fic-closed-doors-dont-lie-pairing-magnus) or any of the [fic GIF sets](http://actuallyredorchid.tumblr.com/tagged/CDDL-GIFs) on tumblr!


	6. Discoveries

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alec negotiates terms with Lydia and has a second sleepover at Magnus' place.

Quaint little bistros in Greenwich Village are not places Alec usually frequents, which makes the one he brings Lydia to perfectly suited for his needs. They’re seated at a corner table on the outside patio, largely hidden from view by the many mundanes having lunch around them.

“I’d like to thank your office for sending someone over so quickly,” Alec says. “Given the delicacy of the matter, I prefer keeping negotiations outside the walls of the Institute for now. People there are loyal, but at times like this, any risk at all is too much of a risk, if you know what I mean?”

“Absolutely,” Lydia replies. “It’s good that you think ahead. Not that I would have expected anything less. I’ve heard a lot of good things about you in Idris.”

“I try to, at least,” Alec says, smiling at her and then catching the eye of one of the mundane waiters, ordering a bottle of white wine for their table along with a platter of assorted starters. “I figured we might as well have lunch while we talk. You can’t have much free time to travel outside of Idris, working in the office you are.”

Lydia raises her eyebrows in surprise, and Alec shrugs in a way he hopes comes across as casual and disarming. A brief look of uncertainty crosses Lydia’s face, but then she sits back in her chair and makes herself comfortable.

“I’m a junior official, so no,” she replies. “How about this: we get the main business out of the way first, and then you’re free to try and butter me up all you want while making your case?” She smiles sweetly at him.

“Fair enough,” Alec says, weighing different angles in his mind, as the waiter comes back, pouring each of them a glass of wine. “Let’s cut right to the chase then: my institute has located and secured the Mortal Cup. In order to fully retrieve it so it can be returned to the Clave, I need Jocelyn Fairchild, who we currently believe is being held hostage by Valentine.”

To her credit, Lydia hides the shock she must be feeling well, only a slight hitch in her breathing betraying that Alec just dropped a bomb on her that could easily make or break her future career. “That’s—much more important intelligence than you let on in your request for resources.”

“I’m aware,” Alec replies. “As I said, I want to keep this on the down-low as much as possible. Do you still feel comfortable to negotiate on the Clave’s behalf in this, or should I ask Inquisitor Herondale to send a more senior official?”

“I think I can handle it,” Lydia says, and Alec can see a gleam of excitement in her eyes. “I’ll need to know as much as you can tell me, however. Why do you need Jocelyn Fairchild? Let’s start there.”

“The Cup’s been hidden within an object she made,” Alec replies. “It can only be retrieved with the same unique angelic powers as she used to put it there.”

“That’s incredibly fortunate for her,” Lydia comments. “Then again, as the wife and supporter of a man who turned out to be a mass-murderer, I guess I can’t fault her for creating some insurance for herself and her daughter. Where’s the Cup now?”

“Somewhere safe,” Alec tells her, and then quickly diverts his attention to the waiter who’s coming in with their starters. “Thank you, this looks great. Here, Lydia, why don’t you try some.”

Lydia looks as though she wants to protest, but then gamely picks up her knife and fork, taking a few pieces of food from the platter that was placed between them and moving them to her plate. 

“How do you know she’s not with Valentine out of her own free will?” she asks. “I mean, they are married, after all.”

“She hid herself and her daughter away from him and lived as mundanes for almost nineteen years,” Alec replies. He debates with himself on whether to bring up Luke, but decides against it. While it’d be a good way to judge how much of a traditionalist Lydia is when it comes to Shadowhunter/Downworlder relations, it’s also a definite risk. “From what I understand, she was the one who got the Cup away from Valentine after he stole it from the Clave,” he says instead. “And insurance or not, she did keep it from falling into his hands all this time—and those of any remaining Circle members.” 

“I see. And this information comes from…?”

“Several different sources,” Alec replies. “I can assure you they’ve all been properly evaluated.”

“Just needed to make sure,” Lydia says. “Valentine’s daughter is at your institute, after all. Awfully convenient timing for her to pop up, don’t you think?”

“No, I completely agree,” Alec says, pleased that his misgivings about Clary can actually work in his favour for once. “Clary is an unknown factor, which is why I assigned Jace to watch her. Believe me, if she thinks she can get the drop on him, she’s got another thing coming.”

“Ah, yes, the illustrious Jace Wayland,” Lydia says, smiling to herself. “He’s quite the legend in Idris. Broken hearts scattered left and right whenever he visits.”

Alec forces himself to smile. Thinking and talking about Jace was fine during the morning when he and Izzy went through the archives, but now, the mention of him causes a prickling sensation to start up from his rune. 

He ignores it and focuses on Lydia again. “That’s Jace. We always joke about how he took the looks and charm meant for both of us and kept it all to himself.”

“Oh, I don’t know about that,” Lydia says, and there’s something in her body language that Alec doesn’t quite like the look of. “A lot of girls in Idris are clamoring to meet _you_. Especially with the rumours...”

“What rumours would that be?” Alec asks, a little too quickly, fighting to keep his voice light.

“That you’re looking to settle down,” Lydia replies, looking at him closely. “Get married.”

Alec feels himself stiffen. So that’s how his parents are going to play it. Alec doesn’t even know why he’s surprised; it’s a completely logical thing for them to do, considering the talk they gave him earlier.

In a way, though, this might actually help with Alec’s plan. He puts a rueful smile on his face and shakes his head.

“Not true, I’m afraid. My parents—well. You know how parents are. They mean well, but they’re not always… up to speed on everything.”

Lydia grins. “I know what you mean. Mine tried to set me up too, actually.”

“Oh, really? How did that turn out?”

“Not well for them,” Lydia replies flippantly, and then she hesitates, before closing her lips in a tight smile. “It’s not important, right now. Let’s go back to your proposal. You need Jocelyn Fairchild to retrieve the Mortal Cup. What resources are you requesting from the Clave for this? I’m assuming you’re also looking to get approval to carry out and spearhead this mission?”

“Yes. And this is where the request gets… a little tricky,” Alec replies, leaning forward slightly and looking Lydia straight in the eye. “I need temporary Clave diplomat status for Izzy, first of all. For the Seelie Court.”

Lydia’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “The Seelies have cut all official communication with the Clave.”

“I know. And Izzy’s contacts among them is how the Clave knows why,” Alec replies. “We believe the scouts that got killed can give us clues as to where Valentine is hiding, but Izzy’s main informants are not positioned high up enough in the court to have the information we need.”

“I don’t know, Alec, that’s a pretty massive thing to ask for,” Lydia says. “I recognise that Isabelle’s… relationship with the Seelie Meliorn has produced some useful intelligence in the past, but the Court is a completely different league, and the Inquisitor’s office—”

“Izzy is the most qualified member on my team,” Alec interrupts. “She’s the best pathologist in New York, a Seelie historian and speaks three different Fae languages. The fact that she’s also excellent at using her beauty to her advantage is just icing on the cake. She’s my top negotiator, and I need her for this.”

“Alright,” Lydia says evenly. “I’ll see what I can do. What other requests do you have?”

“Clearance,” Alec says simply, fighting to keep his expression calm and confident, even as his heart starts to pound in his chest. “I know it’s customary for the heir of an institute to get married before they’re officially awarded the Head position, but I have excellent backups in my sister and my _parabatai_ , and I have more experience being the Acting Head than most people who take on the Head position.” He pretends to hesitate and then leans a little closer still across the table, inviting Lydia into his space and lowering his voice. “Also, with Valentine on the rise... I trust my parents, of course, but with their... history, and the Cup being so close… I just want to make extra sure that the Institute isn’t put at any risk.”

Lydia takes another sip of her wine, clearly turning his words over in her head. Alec takes another bite of his food and forces himself to swallow as he waits.

“Any particular reason you’re making this request when you could just get married and take over the position the usual way?” Lydia asks, and Alec stomach plummets. He should have known it wouldn’t be nearly that easy.

What he’s about to say next is a risky, but not nearly as risky as letting Lydia know the truth; he’ll just have to hope that she has a romantic streak. And that she’ll buy what he’s selling. “I know this is going to sound crazy, being the eldest and all,” he starts, ducking his head, “but I—um, would really like to marry for love, actually. And I just haven’t… found that one person yet, you know?”

Lydia stares at him for several long seconds when he looks back up, and then, all of a sudden, she blinks repeatedly and looks away. Alec sees her hand tremble slightly where it’s resting on the table.

“Everything okay?”

“Yeah, of course,” Lydia replies quickly, blinking again before looking back up. “Sorry, I—got something in my eye, I think.”

“More wine?” Alec offers, topping up her glass generously when Lydia nods. “I think we’re done with the main points, aren’t we? Main course?”

Lydia nods again, and Alec thinks he sees a flash of gratitude in her eyes as he hands her the menu and starts talking about some different dishes she might want to try. He mentally files the reaction away, wondering what weak spot of hers he just managed to stumble over.

They hash out the finer details of the deal during a long, _long_ lunch, and Alec thinks he’s doing pretty well at playing the perfect institute leader, in spite of the continued nervousness he can't quite seem to shake. As the time passes (and more wine is consumed) it’s getting gradually more difficult to ignore the increasing discomfort spreading through his lower abdomen, however, and especially the little spikes of pain that happen every now and then. It’s not constant or overwhelming, just a wave here and there, but whatever Magnus did to soothe the pain the night before is clearly starting to wear off.

Alec takes out his phone and checks it surreptitiously beneath the table. The messages he sent to Magnus are still marked as ‘unread’, and it’s now been more than eight hours since he sent the first one. 

“You look worried,” Lydia remarks. “Is something wrong? Are you needed back at the Institute?”

“It’s probably nothing,” Alec replies. “Let me call Izzy up real quick and double-check though. I’ll be right back.”

He ducks into the restaurant and finds an empty corridor, drawing a quick awareness rune to make sure he’ll notice anyone approaching and pulling up Izzy’s number on his phone.

“Alec, are you okay?,” Izzy asks as soon as she picks up. “Mom and dad looked way too pleased when they joined up with me and Max in the park earlier. And mom said that you were ‘going through a tough time’ and that we should ‘give you space’. Please tell me they didn’t try to bully you into getting married again.”

“Oh they tried,” Alec replies, feeling a sting of bitterness at the memory. “Right now, I’m letting them think they succeeded. But that isn’t why I’m calling. I need you to do something for me.”

“Sure, what do you need?”

“Can you keep mom and dad off my back for the rest of the night?” Alec asks. “I’m taking care of something right now, and then I need to go check on Magnus. He portalled away this morning for what was clearly an emergency, and I haven’t heard from him since.”

“That doesn’t sound good. But yeah, sure, I’ll keep them distracted.”

“Thanks, Iz. Have you heard from Jace?”

“No, but sunset’s in a couple of hours, so they should be getting ready to move.”

“Okay. Keep me updated.”

As soon as Izzy ends the call, Alec pulls up his text conversation with Magnus again, starting to type out a new message. As though on cue, his phone starts to buzz, and Magnus’ name appears on the screen.

“Magnus?”

“Hi, Alec,” Magnus replies. He sounds tired, Alec notes. Tired and a little out of breath.

“Everything okay?”

“Starting to be,” Magnus says. “Listen, I asked around a bit, about the colour of the magic in your dreams. I think I have a few possible candidates, and I just wanted to let you know.”

“That’s great,” Alec replies. “And Izzy and I found a case file at the Institute that looks fishy. I’ve texted you about it.”

“Good,” Magnus says. “Bring it over to the lair after your done at the Institute tonight? I need to get back to the others; there’s still a lot of work to do.”

“Of course,” Alec replies. “Hey, Magnus,” he adds, when Magnus starts to say goodbye. “Be careful.”

“Thank you,” Magnus says, a note of pleased surprise in his voice. “You too.”

“Bye.”

He keeps his phone to his ear for another few seconds after Magnus hangs up, and then walks back to the table, feeling a great deal lighter than he did before.

“I’m guessing it was good news?” Lydia says, when he sits back down.

“Very,” Alec replies. “Sorry, you were telling me about a recent case of yours?”

“Yeah, there’s not much more to tell, actually,” Lydia says with a sigh. “The case is solved, but there isn’t enough evidence to prosecute. So it’ll go in my Camille-pile, with all the others, and continue to frustrate me.”

“Wait, you’re building a case against Camille Belcourt?” Alec asks, realising that he should probably have paid a lot more attention to what Lydia was telling him.

“No, I’m _trying_ to build a case against her,” Lydia replies. “Have been for more than a year. There are at least ten instances that we know of where she broke the Accords, but there’s never a body, and the rest of the Clan always corroborates her alibi, so.” She stabs her fork into the slice of strawberry cheesecake in front of her. “God, I’d do anything to get her for something at this point.”

Alec stops in his tracks, his mind suddenly reeling.

“Sorry, I need to make another call,” he says, getting back out of his chair. “Be right back.”

He hurries back to the empty corridor, hitting Jace’s number and cursing to himself when he gets Jace’s voicemail. He hangs up and tries again. And again.

“Alec, I can’t talk right now,” Jace says when he finally picks up. “I’ll call you later, I—”

“You can’t let Clary stake Simon,” Alec cuts him off, hearing Jace’s surprised intake of breath on the other end of the line. “Izzy told me what Clary needs to do, and I appreciate how difficult the situation must be for her, but just make her wait until we get there, okay? It’s important.”

“Um, yeah, about that,” Jace says, and Alec immediately knows what’s coming.

“She’s not going to stake him?” he asks, lowering his voice and looking quickly around to make sure no one is listening. “ _Jace_ , you know she can’t get involved in Downworlders’ affairs to that extent—the Clave will have her head!”

“Simon’s her best friend,” Jace replies. “And she hasn’t made up her mind yet. Cut her some slack, will you? Imagine if it were me or Izzy.”

The suggestion alone is enough to send a jolt of fear down Alec’s spine. The rune on his hip pulses uncomfortably. “Jace, I—”

“Just turn a blind eye, just this once?” Jace asks. “Please, Alec. If not for her, then for me. Please?”

The rune pulses again, more painfully this time. “Where are you headed?” Alec asks in reply. “What cemetary?”

“Alec, come on, _please_.”

“We might have a way to get rid of Camille permanently,” Alec tells him. “Prove that she’s been breaking the Accords. Put Clary on the phone; let me talk to her.”

“Fine, hang on,” Jace replies, and Alec hears some shuffling and whispered conversation before Clary comes to the phone.

“Hello?”

“Clary, listen to me,” Alec says. “I realise that your life feels like it’s complete shit right now, but there’s a chance we can make Camille pay for what she did, not only to Simon, but to a whole bunch of other people. You’d want that, right?”

“More than anything,” Clary replies fervently, and for once, Alec is happy about her tendency to throw herself headfirst into everything. “Tell me what I need to do.”

* * *

“Thank you, Clary,” Lydia says, later when it’s all over and Camille has been led away through a portal by four shadowhunters wearing the emblem of the High Inquisitor’s office on their clothes. “You’ve been of great assistance to the Clave tonight.” She looks from Clary to the body of Simon lying on the ground and then back again, putting a hand on Clary’s arm. “I’m very sorry for your loss.”

“If I choose to bring him back—” Clary starts, biting down on her lip as she looks over at Simon’s body as well. “If he becomes a vampire, what will that mean for him?”

“If _Raphael_ chooses to bring him back, Simon will be a member of his Clan,” Lydia corrects her. “He’ll have to obey the Accords, just like everyone else. He’ll need to be separated from mundanes until he’s able to control the bloodlust, and he’ll report to Raphael and be bound to follow his direction.”

She gives Clary’s arm a small squeeze and then walks over to Raphael, who’s been watching the whole operation from the sidelines.

“I’ll have the paperwork for your official takeover of the New York Clan processed within the next three days,” she says, holding out a hand for Raphael to shake. “Congratulations, Mr Santiago, you have your own Clan.”

“Always a pleasure to be of assistance to the Clave,” Raphael replies with a wry smile on his lips.

“Alec, it was a pleasure to meet you,” Lydia says, moving on to him next. “I’ll look into the practical details of what we discussed and be in touch as soon as possible.”

“Thanks, Lydia, I appreciate it,” Alec says, holding out his hand to shake hers as well. “Let me know if you need anything else from our end.”

“Will do,” Lydia replies. “Now, if you’ll all excuse me, I have a lot of work to do.”

She’s practically brimming with excitement as she walks over to the still-open portal and disappears from view. Alec lets out a long, slow breath and feels some of the tension he’s carried all afternoon leave his shoulders.

That went well. Now he can only hope he did enough to get Lydia on his side.

“Clary, it’s time to choose,” Raphael says walking forward, a shovel and a stake held out before him. “The clock is ticking.”

Clary swallows thickly, and Alec can see new tears forming in her eyes. She looks down at Simon’s body for a long time, and then reaches forward, taking the shovel from Raphael’s hand.

“Good choice,” Raphael says. “I’ll get him prepared while you dig.”

* * *

It’s after midnight when Alec makes it back to Magnus’ loft, only to find it still empty. He’s thrumming with adrenaline after watching Simon rise, everything inside of him on edge and screaming ‘danger’ as he watched Simon tear into bag after bag of blood, all demon instinct and with no sign of the person underneath.

He’s glad he was there, though, seeing how Clary completely fell apart and Jace had to put his focus into helping her instead of the newly-born vampire. Together, Alec and Raphael managed to calm Simon down enough to take him back to Hotel DuMort, get him cleaned off and fed and installed in a room two doors down from Raphael. When Alec left, Clary had calmed down considerably, and she and Simon were in the middle of hugging it out.

Alec takes a seat on the couch and pulls out the file he brought over, reading through its contents again as he waits. His rune has kept relatively quiet during the night, the pain only spiking a couple of times since leaving Hotel DuMort.

Now, as he reads through the file, the prickling feeling is back, however, and when Alec closes his eyes and concentrates, he can almost see the bright yellow light from his dreams come towards him and feel another hand gripping his tightly.

_Best of luck, little Nephilims._

Alec’s eyes snap open, a sick feeling blooming in his stomach as the shadow of a voice echoes inside his head. He remembers, but he _doesn’t_ , and the more he tries, the more intangible and blurry the memory becomes. 

There’s a sharp headache building behind his eyes, and Alec puts the file back on the table, rubbing at the temples to try and relieve the pain. Then he sighs and closes the file, pulling out his stele to draw an _iratze_. 

He’s not getting any further without Magnus, it seems. He goes into the kitchen instead and looks through cabinets until he finds what he needs to make a cup of tea.

It’s over an hour later when a portal finally opens up and Magnus steps through, swaying precariously on his feet.

Alec quickly gets up from his chair and moves over to him, putting one hand on his arm and the other at the small of Magnus’ back to steady him.

“Jesus, are you okay?”

“Just fine,” Magnus replies, and then stumbles. “Used a bit too much magic is all. Just—some sleep and I’ll be right as rain.” 

“Okay,” Alec says, looking him over for any obvious injuries as he starts walking them towards Magnus’ bedroom. “What happened? Was it Valentine?”

“Unless there’s another group of rogue Shadowhunters with circle runes running around,” Magnus says tiredly. “They attacked one of the new lairs, but it’s okay. We pushed them back.”

“Good,” Alec says, feeling a pang of worry as Magnus sways and stumbles again. “Come on, bed. We’re almost there.”

“We really have to find a way around these constant interruptions,” Magnus murmurs, as Alec helps him change out of his clothes. Alec chuckles in agreement and keeps him steady as Magnus kicks off his shoes.

He hovers next to the bed for a moment after Magnus gets under the blankets, unsure of whether he should leave Magnus alone to sleep or stay in the room and keep an eye on him, in case there are hidden injuries that’ll manifest once Magnus’ adrenaline high from the fight wears off. Magnus must sense his dilemma, because he rolls over on his side and holds out a hand, reaching for Alec.

“Stay the night again?”

Alec takes the offered hand and squeezes it, decision easily made. He walks over to the other side of the bed and strips down to his underwear, placing his clothes on the same chair where he found them that morning.

“There are extra toothbrushes under the sink,” Magnus mumbles, already half-asleep.

Alec watches him for a few moments longer and then walks over to turn off the lamp on Magnus’ bedside table before heading into the bathroom.

* * *

Alec wakes up to pitch-black darkness and the feeling of hot air caressing the back of his neck. He’s momentarily disoriented before the events of the day come back to him, and then feels a hot thrill run down his spine as he fully starts to take in his surroundings. He’s lying on his side, facing outward, and Magnus is cuddled up to his back, one arm slung casually over Alec’s waist but not quite spooning him.

Alec’s heart speeds up as he carefully turns over on his back, suppressing a groan when the movement causes Magnus’ forearm and hand to slowly drag across the skin of his lower stomach. He turns over fully so that he and Magnus are face to face, even though he can’t make out more than the general shape of him in the darkness.

He reaches out and places an open hand on Magnus’ bare chest, feeling Magnus’ heart beat steadily against his palm. Magnus’ skin is warm and smooth, his chest firm and utterly perfect as Alec mindlessly traces a line down his sternum. His mind goes back to the night of their date, to the way Magnus’ body felt pressed against his own, and he finds himself shifting closer, wanting to feel it again.

“Mmm, that’s really nice,” Magnus murmurs sleepily, moving into the touch as Alec’s hand makes its way up his chest and neck, into his hair. “Come here?”

Alec closes the last distance between them and dips his head in anticipation. Magnus’ lips brush over his painfully slowly at first, just barely making contact. Alec keeps himself perfectly still as the gentle touch grows bolder, gasping when he feels the first touch of Magnus’ tongue against the edge of his upper lip.

He uses the hand tangled in Magnus’ hair to pull them flush together, deepening the kiss. Magnus’ mouth is incredibly addictive, and the way he refuses to let Alec speed things up and turn the lazy, easy touch into something desperate is simultaneously the worst kind of tease and completely heavenly.

Magnus whispers something into their kiss that Alec doesn’t catch, and when he next opens his eyes, he finds the bedroom bathing in starlight, the ceiling above him having transformed into a clear night sky.

“Lamps are boring,” Magnus tells him, an all-too smug smile on his face. He rolls Alec over on his back and comes down on top of him, and Alec lets out a moan at the full body contact. He parts his legs to give Magnus more room, another moan escaping when their hips line up.

Magnus is already half-way hard, and the only thing currently separating him from Alec is Alec’s underwear and Magnus’ loose, silky pyjama pants that don’t leave much to the imagination. Alec runs his hands down Magnus’ back and dips the tips of his fingers beneath the waistband, his own cock twitching as he pulls Magnus’ hips down and rolls his own up to meet him.

“ _Definitely_ nice,” Magnus murmurs, and Alec can feel him smiling into their kiss as their hips find a slow, lazy rhythm. “Pants on or off?”

Alec slides his hands fully beneath the fabric of Magnus’ pants in reply, loving the gasp it elicits and the way Magnus’ rhythm stutters for a second. “Off, please.”

Magnus groans and pulls away, sitting back on his haunches and sliding his hands up the outside of Alec’s thighs. “Lift your hips for me?”

Alec does, and Magnus helps him drag his underwear down his legs, over his knees, off his feet. Then he places Alec’s feet back down on the mattress and puts his hands on either knee, stroking small circles into Alec’s skin with his thumbs.

“My God, Alexander, you are absolutely exquisite.”

Alec closes his eyes, feeling hot all over. Magnus’ eyes on him are like a brand, and his hands feel even hotter when Magnus leans forward and runs them up the inside of his thighs.

“Magnus, I—”

He forgets what else he was about to say when Magnus runs his hands back down his legs, lifting the right one to rest against his shoulder and turning his head, placing a lingering kiss to the top of his calf.

“Yes?”

Alec whines low in his throat in reply, using the leverage he has to lift himself up, trying to get closer. “More.”

Magnus grins and places another kiss against his calf. “More of what? This?” His hands stroke their way up Alec’s thighs again, torturously slowly.

And then, as if that wasn’t enough, he starts tracing the same path with his mouth.

Alec shudders. They’ve barely even started, and he already feels like he’s about to vibrate out of his skin, his brain a mess of conflicting emotion and thought as it tries to process everything. The easy familiarity he felt during their frantic makeout session is gone, and he instinctively looks inward, tries to find it again.

Magnus keeps stroking the inside of his thighs as his mouth works its way inward, broad, firm strokes alternated with just the barest touch of the tips of his fingers, and all of it feels so _new_ ; new and uncertain and completely overwhelming.

Magnus’ mouth hovers over the tip of his cock for what feels like forever, hot breath just ghosting over the skin, before he finally lowers his head an inch and wraps his lips around the crown. He goes down by increments, wet, hot suction growing more and more intense, and Alec throws his head back, gasping for air as everything spins around him.

His body wants to go faster, wants pleasure to crash into every limb and for hurried hands to put him where they need him so they can both get what they want as quickly as possible. Magnus’ touch is teasingly slow and all-encompassing—coaxing pleasure from Alec in a way that’s _so_ different—Alec has no idea how, just that it _is_ —and it’s driving him out of his mind, as though his body is being pulled in two different directions at once, caught between whatever it’s looking for and the reality of Magnus’ touch.

“ _More_ ,” he manages, pulling at Magnus, getting him back in position on top of him so he can kiss him again, have them touch with every part of their bodies. “More, _please_.”

He doesn’t know what he’s looking for, just that he is, and whatever’s missing is _so close_. He can feel it in his bones, in his blood, everything inside of him on edge and _waiting_. He shoves at the top of Magnus’ pants, gets them down his hips and helps him kick them off, both of them moaning as they come back together, skin to skin.

On instinct, he grabs Magnus’ hand, twisting his own so that they’re palm to palm and holds on tightly. For a split second, Magnus’ eyes flash a brilliant gold, and Alec loses his breath. He surges up and captures Magnus’ lips with his once more, kissing him desperately, waiting for the connection to forge.

It almost does. Alec can sense Magnus’ magic ghost across his skin, seeping inside of him and starting to pull. But then it’s like it all _snaps_ , and before Alec has time to react, Magnus is rolling away from him, holding up his hand to stop Alec from getting too close when he tries to follow.

“ _Stop,_ ” Magnus says, hoarse and out of breath, as though it’s taking every part of his self-control to get that one word out.

Alec waits for him to continue, apprehension rising inside him as Magnus takes another few deep breaths, clearly trying to calm himself down.

“Magnus, what’s wrong?” Alec tries, when almost a minute has gone by and Magnus still hasn’t so much as looked at him. “Are you okay? Did I do something? Was it—”

“No. No it’s nothing—I, um—Sorry. It’s not you, it’s just... Please just give me a minute,” Magnus replies, his eyes still firmly shut and his head turned down.

“Okay,” Alec replies carefully. He leans forward slightly and extends a hand. “Is there anything I can do?”

Magnus groans. “Too many things, darling. That’s kind of the problem, right there.”

“Oh,” Alec says, taken aback. “ _Oh_ , you mean you—?”

“I should have seen this coming,” Magnus replies, his voice sounding more like his normal one, though his eyes remain firmly closed. “Of course you’d be used to—I didn’t realise it would transfer so well to my magic, is all. It’s probably because of when you lent me your power before; my magic already knows you, so when you gave it the opportunity to bond, it just—”

“Wait, what?” Alec interrupts, drawing back slightly in shock. “What do you mean _opportunity to bond?_ What just happened?”

Magnus takes another deep breath and raises his head. His eyes open, and instead of the rich brown Alec is used to seeing, a pair of slitted cat’s eyes look back at him, glowing slightly in the dark.

Magnus’ warlock mark. Alec swallows thickly, but keeps his own gaze steady as he extends his hand again, letting out a breath he didn’t know he was holding when Magnus takes it.

“My magic started to forge a connection,” Magnus explains. “Nothing serious—not this time—but you subconsciously offered up a direct link to, well, your essence, for lack of a better term, and my magic pounced on it. I’m truly sorry. I should have taken better precautions, since I knew your history—the way the suppression on your _parabatai_ bond is wearing thin, it’s only logical that your body should seek a way around it. I don’t know how many people you’ve been with since Jace, but this issue _would_ only come up with a magical partner, and I don’t imagine—” 

“Wait, _what?_ ” Alec interrupts, a sudden chill shooting down his spine. “What do you mean ‘since Jace’? I haven’t— _Jace and I_ haven’t—” 

“Alec,” Magnus says, his face serious, “I understand why you’d feel like you couldn’t possibly trust anyone with that—I do know what the Clave’s laws look like. But if we’re going to figure this out, I need you to—”

“I haven’t slept with Jace!” Alec nearly shouts, then immediately bites down on his lower lip, shocked by how loud his words came out. “I mean. Yeah, I guess I can see why you might… get that impression, with the demon and everything. But we’ve never… I actually—” He swallows again, then looks away quickly, trying to stop the sudden blush that threatens to climb up his neck. “ _I’ve_ never—I’m a virgin. So. No previous sex. With Jace or anyone else.”

He looks back at Magnus, expecting… surprise, maybe? Wariness? Second thoughts about Alec being worth his time, at worst. He definitely does not expect the look of complete disbelief on Mangus’ face. Or the look of realisation and horror that follows.

“That’s what they took from you,” Magnus says slowly. “That’s what they—oh, Alexander, I’m so, so sorry.”

He moves in close and pulls Alec into a hug, and Alec is suddenly all too aware of the fact that they’re both still naked.

He pulls away from Magnus and scrambles for the duvet, pulling it up to cover himself, in a futile attempt not to feel quite as vulnerable.

“I don’t know what you—Who’s _they?_ And I’m fine, okay? I mean, yeah. I had a crush. It was hopeless, and I got over it. End of story.”

“Alec, please listen to me,” Magnus says. “There’s a suppression spell on your _parabatai_ bond, which I now suspect you don’t remember getting?”

Alec nods his head warily in confirmation.

“Okay,” Magnus says. “So we can agree that that spell is part of the erased memories. Now, there are only two reasons to suppress a _parabatai_ bond: to protect the life of one party if the other is under extreme duress or dying, or to re-balance a bond that has mutated. In the first case, the spell is removed as soon as the danger has passed, and yours is still on. In addition, your bond is actively trying to break free of the spell, which is part of why it’s growing weaker. Only a mutated bond would do that.”

“What? So you think my bond with Jace _mutated_? And someone suppressed it and removed our memories of it?” Alec asks, confused. “That makes no sense.”

“I believe the Clave has some dramatic legend that they like to paste over the more… volatile facets of the bond,” Magnus replies. “The _Parabatai Curse?_ Fail to keep the bond platonic and horrible things will befall you. Ring any bells?”

“Yeah, but—that’s just a silly legend, like you said. No one actually believes it.”

“Thing is, there’s a grain of truth in it,” Magnus says. “A _parabatai_ bond is a soulbond in the most literal sense. You tie the mystical energies of two Shadowhunters together, which enhances their power. Now, you Nephilim have your own brand of magic, just like every creature in the Shadow World, but you’ve bound it to objects for centuries: your steles, your runes, your blades, to mention a few.”

“And you’re saying the magic is still there?”

“Oh, most definitely. It’s been bound, and is therefore dormant. But enhance it enough, and give it the right push… You’ll essentially have a magical time bomb on your hands. And from the little bits and pieces you’ve told me and from what I’ve been able to observe, I believe that’s what happened with you and Jace.”

_Massive blast damage to Ops Centre. Collapsed ceiling in adjacent corridors..._

Alec feels his jaw drop. The implication of what Magnus is telling him is clear: if the _Parabatai Curse_ is real, and Alec and Jace activated it, then that means— _that means…_

He swallows hard, shaking his head vigorously. “No. _No,_ that’s impossible. I would have—”

“Remembered?” Magnus fills in gently, and the single word hits Alec like a tonne of bricks.

He curls in on himself, his chest heaving as he tries to pull enough air into his lungs. It’s no use; for every breath he tries to take, a suffocating pressure pushes down on his chest. He can’t think and his heart is hammering; he feels like he’s going to pass out. 

“I can’t breathe,” he chokes out, and Magnus is there in an instant, helping him sit up and bend forward, placing a hand on his chest and one on his back.

“Breathe with me,” Magnus prompts. “In. And out. Again. In. Out. You can do this.”

Alec shakes his head again. He can’t. He _can’t_. There’s _no way_ he—

The headache from earlier returns in full force, blazing through this brain like a shockwave, and Alec hunches over, crying out as the pain spreads from his head down his spine, pressure building in his lower abdomen, like something is trying to cut him open and force its way out.

 _“Cat, I need you right now!”_ he hears Magnus voice, as though from a great distance, even as he feels a cool wave of magic run soothingly across his skin. _”Jace Wayland, New York Institute. Immediate containment. There’s a portal shard in Clary Fairchild’s room you can use to bypass the wards. Go!”_

“ _Jace_ ,” Alec manages, feeling panic rise inside him as more pain flares from his rune. “Where’s—? _Fuck_. Hurts so much, I—” 

“Hold on, Alec, it’ll all be okay,” Magnus says, and Alec feels more magic pour into him, pushing some of the pressure back. “Shhh, darling, just breathe.”

“We didn’t mean to,” Alec mumbles, words falling from his lips that don’t make any sense. “I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry…”

Magnus’ body wraps around his, grounding him while the magic pushes more of the pain aside. When the last of it fades, Alec feels his whole body drop, slumping heavily against Magnus’ chest, utterly exhausted, as he lets himself slip away into the waiting blackness.


	7. Consequences

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alec and Jace awkwardly deal with things and Catarina Loss is awesome.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! Sorry this chapter took longer than normal. It was--by far--the trickiest one to write yet. Also the one I'm most unsure about (getting the balance right was a nightmare), so any kind of feedback is greatly appreciated. <3

Alec wakes up in stages.

The first time, it’s to a wave of sharp pain, like a muscle tearing during a fight but without an adrenaline surge to soften it. His body feels heavy and his mind even more so. He tries to move. Finds out he can’t.

_“Pain indicators spiking for Alec,”_ he hears Izzy’s voice through the haze. 

_“For Jace too.”_ Clary’s voice. _“What do we do?”_

_“Dammit, I just hit another tear,”_ an unknown voice says, and Alec feels something tug at what feels like the entirety of his spine. _“Magnus, more pain relief, please. Try to put them back under.”_

The pain fades as quickly as it came, and Alec falls back into nothingness.

The second time, his head is throbbing steadily, but his body feels more his own. Opening his eyes is too much work, but he manages to move his mouth, wet his lips and push a garbled sound out of his throat.

“Alec!” Izzy is by his side in seconds, her hand warm and familiar against the side of his face. “Can you talk? How are you feeling?”

“What—?” is all Alec manages before fatigue hits him, making his head spin even as he can feel his grip on consciousness slipping.

“Shhh, it’s okay,” Izzy tells him, moving her hand up to stroke over his hair. “Rest some more. Everything will be fine.”

The third time, the pain is mostly gone. Alec tilts his head gingerly to the side and opens his eyes.

“Hello, Alexander,” Magnus says softly. “Welcome back.”

He looks sweaty and exhausted, but the smile he directs at Alec is just as beautiful as ever. Alec is hit by an overwhelming need to kiss him, and somehow, it must show in his eyes, because Magnus leans in and brushes their lips together, leaving Alec smiling stupidly when he pulls back again.

“How are you feeling?”

“Okay, I think,” Alec replies, and then clears his throat. “What happened?”

“The suppression spell on your bond broke, and things went haywire,” Magnus says. “Luckily for us, I’m good at containment charms.”

He reaches out and takes Alec’s hand in his, squeezing it. “How much do you remember?”

“I, uh—I remember waking up in the middle of the night,” Alec says. “And that we—” He breaks off, feeling a blush start to creep up his neck. “And you, um—you know. But then—” He frowns, trying to make sense of the blurry flashes in his mind. 

“I pulled back. We talked,” Magnus fills in for him. “We discussed your bond. Do you remember that?”

“Yeah,” Alec replies, frowning again. “You said that—” He breaks off, a deep chill gripping his spine. He closes his eyes and presses his lips tightly together. Maybe if he refuses to think it—if he refuses to say it out loud, he can stop it from being true.

“I’m sorry,” Magnus says quietly, and the gentle words pierce right through Alec’s defenses. He grips Magnus’ hand tighter, holding on desperately to keep himself together as the fuzziness gradually leaves his brain and his world starts to crumble.

“You’ll get through this,” Magnus promises, and the way he says it—not like comfort but as irrefutable fact—helps Alec push down the onsetting panic. He forces himself to take a number of deep breaths and open his eyes.

“Is—I thought I heard Izzy’s voice earlier. Is she here?”

“Yeah, she’s out in the kitchen with Catarina,” Magnus replies. “Clary’s here too. She’s… with Jace in the other room.”

Alec’s eyes widen in alarm. “Jace is here? _Why?_ Did you tell him—?”

“He’s here because the energy that exploded through your bond went through him as well,” Magnus cuts in. “I managed to get Cat to the Institute in time, but both your bodies were under a lot of stress. Isabelle and Clary helped us anchor you while we worked.” He looks down, away from Alec. “As for the rest… Cat knew what was up with the bond as soon as she put her magic to it, and there was never anything I could do to stop that. She told Jace the basics of the mutation and the broken suppression spell when he woke up about an hour ago.”

Alec pushes himself up to a sitting position on the bed, drawing his knees up and curling in on himself.

“How did he take it?”

Magnus winces, and then sends Alec a small, apologetic smile. “I think the two of you should probably talk.”

The coldness inside of Alec spreads. “That badly, huh?”

Magnus replies by squeezing his hand again. “Come on. Let’s start by getting you out of bed. Cat’s making breakfast, and I don’t know about you, but I _definitely_ need a shower.”

In spite of everything, the corners of Alec’s mouth turn up into a small smile. “Is that an invitation?”

Magnus looks for a moment like he’s going to say something teasing back. And then he sighs, squeezing Alec’s hand once more before pulling away. “Not today.”

Alec nods, and the numbness inside of him grows. He draws in a shaky breath and keeps his eyes firmly on a point on the opposite wall.

“Do you—I mean, I get it if this changes things for you. And I understand if you don’t want to—”

Magnus interrupts him with a light touch to the side of his face. Alec hates himself a little for how desperately he wants to lean into it.

“Everyone has a past, Alec, and knowing about yours doesn’t bother me,” Magnus says softly. “But the fact that you don’t remember it _does_ , and I don’t know how that will change things. For you or for us. So while I very much want to keep seeing you, I’m thinking that maybe it’d be a good idea to cool things off a little while we figure this out?”

Alec forces himself to nod again, because yes, what Magnus is saying is smart. Reasonable.

He blinks repeatedly, willing away the hot pressure rising behind his eyes.

“Go shower, then,” he says, not quite succeeding in keeping a tremble out of his voice. “I’ll meet you in the kitchen.”

“Alec…”

“No, you’re right,” Alec says firmly, moving down the bed so he can get out of it without having to go directly past Magnus. “It’s the smart thing to do.”

He finds his shirt and pulls it on, hurrying out of the room and pretending he can’t feel Magnus’ eyes on his back every step of the way.

* * *

Izzy is in Magnus’ kitchen when Alec arrives, sitting across from a blue-skinned warlock and having what looks like a pretty serious conversation. Alec hangs back in the doorway and clears his throat to let them know they’re no longer alone, and Izzy immediately jumps out of her chair and crosses the room to pull him into a tight hug—knocking the breath out of both of them in the process.

“Hey,” Alec tries, hugging Izzy back. “Iz, it’s okay. Everything’s fine.”

Izzy makes an unbelieving sound against his shoulder and clings to him a bit more before drawing back. She takes a step away from him and crosses her arms in front of her. “You scared the shit out of us. Don’t do it again.”

“I won’t,” Alec promises. “I mean, I’ll do my best not to.”

“Good,” Izzy says, still glaring a bit when she looks at him. “Come on. There’s breakfast, and you haven’t met Cat yet.” She motions him over to the table and gestures towards the woman sitting there. “Catarina Loss, amazing warlock who helped save your life. Cat, this is Alec, my idiot brother who doesn’t know when to ask for help.”

“Nice to meet you,” Alec says, holding out his hand for Catarina to shake. “And thank you.”

“I was happy to help,” Cat replies. “And I have to admit I was curious about you. It’s not often I see Magnus so… invested.”

Alec does his best to smile, desperately hoping that her words will turn out to still be true once the dust settles. “I take it you’re good friends?”

“More like family,” Catarina says. “So, why don’t you join us for breakfast and tell me exactly what it is that you’ve got yourself—and Magnus—mixed up in?”

“I actually—I should probably talk to Jace first,” Alec replies. “Magnus implied he was pretty upset by all of this.”

“To say the least,” Izzy confirms. “But at the same time, he just got his whole view of himself flipped upside down, on top of almost dying. So I’m cutting him some slack.”

“Did he say anything to you? You know, about the whole… bond thing.”

“You should probably just talk to him yourself,” Izzy replies, an apologetic smile on her face that mirrors the one Magnus’ gave him earlier to an almost eerie extent.

Alec takes a deep breath and steels himself. “Would you—? Magnus said Clary’s with him, and I don’t want to—”

He’s not quite sure how to finish the sentence, or even what it is he wants to say. Luckily, Izzy seems to have an idea, because she nods and takes his arm, leading him from the room and telling Cat over her shoulder that she’ll be back shortly.

Alec follows her down the corridor to Magnus’ guestroom, feeling like a total coward, standing a couple of paces behind her as she knocks on the door and then opens it.

“Hey, guys. Jace, I’ve got someone here to see you.”

“Hi,” Alec says simply after stepping over the threshold. His eyes immediately zoom in on Jace, who’s sitting in a virtual mountain of red silk pillows in the huge four-poster bed in the middle of the room. 

Clary is next to him, sitting a few feet away at the edge of the bed. When she sees Alec, wariness flashes across her face, and she subconsciously shifts closer to Jace, placing herself not-so-subtly in between him and Alec.

Alec feels a sting of grim satisfaction. Whatever parts of the story Clary’s managed to pick up have clearly made Alec a lot less toothless in her eyes. The feeling only lasts a split second, however, a sick wave of dread surging up to take its place.

“Iz, could you—?” Alec asks quietly, feeling absurdly grateful when Izzy reaches out and squeezes his hand.

“Clary, come have breakfast with me,” she says. “Let’s give these two some space to talk.”

Clary looks back at Jace, visibly hesitating. Jace says something to her that’s too quiet for Alec to overhear, and Clary nods, leaning in to press a quick kiss to Jace’s lips before following Izzy out of the room.

The door closes with a thud, and Alec leans back against it, reflexively crossing his arms in front of his chest. On the bed, Jace mirrors the movement, and for a long time, they’re just not-quite-looking at each other from across the room, while the tension between them grows heavy and oppressive. 

Alec has no idea what to say. Somehow, _”So, apparently we used to be in a secret relationship that backfired so spectacularly that we had to have our memories wiped,”_ doesn’t strike him as a good place to start.

“How are you feeling?” he settles on eventually.

Jace shrugs. “Fine, I guess. You?”

Alec shrugs. There’s another long silence.

“Cat filled me in. About the bond,” Jace says eventually. “Did you—?” 

“Magnus figured it out last night,” Alec replies. “I, um, didn't take it well.”

Jace sighs and uncrosses his arms, pulling one hand through his hair. “Yeah, I—didn’t either. I might have yelled a bit. But it’s all so… _fuck_ —I don’t even know how to process this.”

Alec nods in agreement. The air between them feels like it’s growing thinner with every passing minute, and Jace is just sitting there, in his stupid pile of pillows and not saying anything.

“So what do we do?” Alec finally manages, when he can’t stand it anymore.

Jace lets out another deep sigh. “Fuck if I know. I mean, we’ll have to do the demon summoning ritual again, obviously. Get the missing memories back.”

Alec bites down hard on his bottom lip. A few months ago, he’d probably have jumped on the chance, but now? Even without factoring in the potential of him and Magnus, the possibilities of what he and Jace might find leave him with a cold, sinking feeling.

“And then what?” he asks, the uneasy feeling in his stomach growing worse when Jace simply shrugs.

“I don’t know. Find the warlock, I guess. I mean, we’ll need to get the spontaneous magic under control. Go back to normal.”

Normal. Right. Alec almost laughs out loud. 

Jace looks at him weirdly. “What? You’ve got a better idea?”

Alec shrugs. He doesn’t know—doesn’t know _anything_ right now—and not knowing just makes all of it so much worse. They need a plan—they do—and what Jace is suggesting makes sense. But it’s still… 

He looks down at his feet, unable to meet Jace’s eyes. 

“What if we just—leave it? Move on.”

As soon as he says it, Alec knows that it’s what he wants to do. Jace clearly doesn’t get it, however, judging by the fact that he’s looking back at him like Alec’s grown an extra head.

“Of course we’re getting them back.”

“Why?”

“What do you mean ‘why’?”

Alec pushes himself off the door and starts pacing back and forth in front of it in frustration. “I mean, what good will it do? Come on, just—”

“What good will it—it’s our memories!” Jace throws back. “I’m not going to let some warlock just feed a part of my brain to some demon without putting up a fight.”

Alec looks up at him then, disbelief likely written all over his face. The skin around his rune starts to prickle uncomfortably. “What? So you’re just... _fine_ with… whatever it brings back?

Jace scoffs, and Alec feels a familiar wave of anger start building inside of him. The prickling underneath his skin deepens, and from the way Jace suddenly winces and puts his hand against his hip, Alec is willing to bet that he’s feeling it too. 

“I’m not even gay,” Jace says, wincing again as there’s another sharp surge of pain through their bond. “I mean, how bad could it be? We probably just got way too drunk one night or something. Shit happens.” 

There’s an undertone of desperation in his voice, but it’s still coming out mostly flippant. Alec stops short, because that—no. _No._ Jace can’t do this to them. No fucking way.

“No,” he says, impressed with himself when he actually manages to keep his voice calm and collected. “You don’t get to just pretend this isn’t happening.”

For a second, he thinks he sees a flash of fear in Jace’s eyes, but then the stubborn arrogance is back, and Alec has to stop himself from striding over to the bed and shaking him until he sees sense.

“I’m not—can you just stop making this into such a big deal?” Jace complains, and that’s it—Alec can’t take this crap anymore. 

He turns and wrenches open the door, the loud bang it makes when it hits the wall stupidly satisfying.

“Alec, come on,” Jace tries, “Don’t be like this.”

Alec walks out of the room, slamming the door shut behind him.

He barely makes it halfway down the hall before Jace catches up to him, grabbing his arm and spinning him around.

“Okay, what the fuck is wrong with you?”

The pain in the bond flares, making both of them cry out. Alec pulls his arm free and stumbles to the side, bracing himself against the wall as his side feels like it’s splitting open.

“ _Alec._ ”

The pleading voice doesn’t come from Jace’s mouth, but from _inside Alec’s head_ , and Alec grits his teeth as a new wave of pain goes through him.

“Magnus!” he calls, even as Jace falls against his side and they both start sinking to the floor. “Someone? Help!”

He can hear running footsteps as the pain spikes again, first in him, and then in Jace— _through him_ —like a vicious loop that just keep growing stronger as it feeds back on itself.

“Quickly, someone get a stele out and draw a bridging rune on one of them,” he hears Catarina’s voice, and then there’s a flurry of activity, as Izzy and Clary descend on them, and a familiar sting in his right palm as Izzy activates the rune they normally use for _parabatai_ tracking.

“Good, now get their hands clasped together and hold them there,” Cat instructs, and Alec fumbles for Jace’s hand, trying to help as Izzy and Clary bring them together.

The bond activates in a bright flash of light, and Alec can breathe properly again, the pain from his rune giving way to the rhythm of a shared heartbeat. He closes his eyes and clutches at the back of Jace’s shirt with his free hand, the warmth of Jace’s skin soaking into his side from where they’re slumped together on the floor.

_“What the hell is going on?”_ he hears Jace’s voice inside his head, like a warm presence that slots right into place, and Alec pushes some of his own confusion back, feeling it move through the bond from his mind to Jace’s.

“Okay, that’s enough. Please try to close your minds as much as possible and move away from each other,” Catarina’s voice breaks in, and Alec reluctantly pulls himself away from the warm comfort of the little bubble he just found himself in.

He looks up to find Cat, Magnus, Izzy and Clary all watching him. 

“What just happened?”

“The magic in your bond is extremely volatile,” Magnus replies. “Especially now, right after the spell keeping it in check broke.”

“Can’t you just put on a new spell?” Jace asks.

“It’s not that easy, I’m afraid,” Cat replies. “Your bond needs to re-stabilise, and while both Magnus and I can do things to help the process along, the main effort needs to come from the two of you in order for it to be sustainable.”

Jace pushes himself to his feet. “Okay, so let’s do it. What kind of effort are we talking?”

“Maybe we should talk about this in private?” Cat suggests. “Magnus, would you mind if I use your study for a while?”

“Go right ahead,” Magnus replies. “Actually, you can have the whole lair. I’m going to head out, I think. I have an old friend to congratulate. Biscuit, why don't you come along? Let's go check on Simon, see how he's settling in.”

“You're heading over to see Raphael?” Alec asks, his mind shifting temporarily over into work mode.

“I am. I'll tell him you send your regards, shall I?”

“Yeah, that'd be good,” Alec replies. “Thank you.”

He thinks he sees Magnus send a small wink his way as he leaves, but it’s gone so fast that Alec might just as well have imagined it.

“Okay, what was that about?” Jace asks as soon as Magnus and Clary are out the door. 

“Just doing my job,” Alec replies. “Actually, Izzy, that reminds me: when we get back to the Institute, I need to talk to you about something.”

“Okay, sure,” Izzy says. “What about now? Do you want me to stay or…?”

Alec looks at Catarina, who shrugs. “Up to you two.”

“Jace?”

“I’m fine with it if you are,” Jace says, but Alec can hear the empty bravado in his voice.

Jace is scared—of what Cat will tell them or what Izzy might hear, Alec isn’t sure. Either way, it amounts to the same decision, and to be honest, as much as he loves and trusts his sister, he’s not sure he’ll be able to have this conversation with her in the room.

“Actually, would you go back to the Institute and keep an eye on things?” he asks. “I think—for now, we just need to—”

“Don’t worry about it,” Izzy tells him quickly, and then walks over to give each of them a hug. “Call me when you’re done? I’m here if you want to talk. For both of you.”

“You’re the best, Iz,” Jace says, to which Izzy laughs and tosses her hair over her shoulder theatrically.

“And don’t you forget it. Cat, it was great meeting you. I’ll be in touch about the series of books we were talking about.”

“I’ll make sure you get them,” Cat replies. “Jace, Alec, if you’ll please follow me.”

* * *

“The first thing to know about soulbonds is that they’re tricky little things, and the _parabatai_ bond is no exception,” Cat says once she, Alec and Jace are seated around Magnus’ kitchen table. “You need to learn to control the level of involvement, first of all. A healthy bond needs balance.”

Alec nods, his mind already spinning with possible implications. 

Next to him, Jace seems to have found his cool again, all smiles and enthusiasm as he bites into a giant muffin. “Okay, so how do we do that?”

Cat holds out her palms, and a ball of magic forms over each, one blue and one yellow. “It’s a little bit like this,” she says, moving her hands together so that the colours touch and green sparks form in the middle. “You need to need to be able to stay separate while together, and together while apart. If the colours start merging too much, the magic takes over, and if there’s no overlap to sustain the magic, it puts unnecessary strain on the bond.”

“Okay. So what do we need to do?” Jace asks. “Is there another ritual or something?”

“Why don’t we start from the beginning?” Cat suggests. “I realise that you’re missing a lot of memories, but if you could walk me through what you do remember, that’d be helpful.”

“Um, well, I don’t know what we can tell you,” Alec says, leaning forward a little and deliberately not looking Jace’s way. “I don’t really—there are a few flashes from things I figured were dreams, with a bright yellow light overlaying all of it. But I don’t… there’s nothing specific. Just a flash here and there. A shadow of a feeling sometimes.”

Cat nods and then turns her attention to Jace. “And for you?” 

Jace shrugs. “Same. Like I told Alec before, how do we even know that there is something to find? I mean, yeah, we’ve obviously lost some memories, but maybe the reason we never noticed they were gone is that they aren’t that significant? I mean, people would have noticed if something was going on between us, right? It’s not like living at the Institute gives you a lot of privacy.”

The words sting. Not in the way they would have before back when the knot in Alec’s gut started smoothing out from something hopeful and desperate to something quietly resigned, but sting nonetheless. Alec looks down at his clasped hands resting on the table and reminds himself that it doesn’t matter.

Cat leans forward a little, and when she speaks again, her voice is notably softer and more soothing. “I realise this isn’t easy for either of you, but if we’re going to get anywhere, we need to collect whatever facts we can. From the degree of mutation to your bond and the strength of the spell that was put on top to keep it in check, my estimation is that you were intimately involved for at least six months. Possibly as much as a year.”

Stunned silence follows Cat’s words, and something hot and uncomfortable starts uncoiling in Alec’s chest. He can feel Jace’s shock through their bond, and the immediate surge of denial that follows. It rises up in Alec like a wave, confusion and disbelief mixing with fear until everything around him is spinning.

He drops his head into his hands as he fights to get the hurricane of conflicting emotions under control. Six months to a year? He presses his hands harder against his face, trying to breathe.

“That’s—a real relationship,” Jace says at last, his voice shaky and faint.

“Did you not think it would be?” Cat asks, and the gentleness of her voice makes it all worse somehow.

Jace shakes his head fervently. “No. I mean—six months? _A year?_. How’s that—I’ve never been with someone for longer than a couple of weeks.”

“I see,” Cat replies. “Are you upset that the two might be related? That—”

“That what?” Jace interrupts, and Alec can physically feel Jace’s panic rise, so clear and strong that Alec thinks he might throw up from the onslaught. “What are you saying? That the reason I don’t have relationships is that I’m still—that I have—” He breaks off, clearly trying to pull himself together. The panic inside of Alec spikes through the bond, and without thinking, he reaches out to put a hand on Jace’s back to try and stave it off—the same thing he always does when Jace is upset. 

Jace almost falls out of his chair trying to dodge the touch, and Alec pulls his hand back with a gasp of pain; his entire palm is burning, and when he turns it over, red blisters are spreading all across the skin.

“I understand that this is very emotional for you,” Cat says, sending a wisp of magic across the table, which wraps itself around Alec’s hand, cooling the burn. “Jace, I need you to take a couple of deep breaths. Try to find something in your mind that anchors you, that you can hold on to to keep the bond from overwhelming you.”

Jace lets out a pained, hollow laugh, and Alec gets hit by another wave of emotion, all dark and twisted and crawling up his spine. He almost wants to laughs himself, because the bond _is_ their anchor—has been ever since it was formed, even when they’ve been apart, or fighting, or during times when Alec wasn’t sure if being around Jace was keeping him alive or slowly killing him because he wanted things he could never have.

Except apparently he could. And _did_.

Alec has no idea what to even do with that information.

“No,” Jace says, and Alec can see his shoulders begin to shake. “ _No_. You have to be wrong. There’s no way we could have—it’s just—I’m not even that into guys. I mean, yeah, I’ve fooled around with a few when Izzy and I’ve been out, but it’s never felt right. It’s always a bit… I don’t know. Empty or something. Like—” 

“Almost like a connection is missing?” Alec fills in, bile rising in his throat as the last pieces of the puzzle fall into place. He can see the moment Jace gets it, the way his eyes widen and his whole face shuts down.

“Alec, _no_.”

“Magnus pulled away in the middle of us having sex last night,” Alec says, hearing his own voice like an echo, as though it’s coming through from a great distance. “Because I’m apparently so used to doing it with someone I have an active bond to that my energy pretty much threw itself at his magic.”

Jace gapes at him, and then he turns his face away. “I can’t… even think about that.”

“Okay, ” Catarina says, startling both of them. “This is good; it gives us a starting point. I realise that this is a lot for both of you to take in right now, but please trust me when I say that it will help you in the long run.”

“How?” Alec asks hollowly, keeping his eyes firmly down. “This is—we can’t work like this. I can feel everything he’s feeling through the bond right now, and it’s making me want to crawl into a hole and never come back out again.”

“You think this is any easier for me?” Jace replies, anger bleeding into his voice as into their connection. “You’re my _parabatai_. Us being together like that is forbidden on, like, a thousand different levels.”

“You think I don’t know that?” Alec throws back. “Why did you think I panicked when the Memory Demon pulled _your_ face?”

“Oh, come on! Like that was such a big shock for you!”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“It means I know, alright?!” Jace exclaims, pulling a hand through his hair the way he does when he’s deeply uncomfortable about something. “I know how you feel about me. I’ve known for years.”

Alec just stares at him. And then anger wells back up.

He opens his mouth to cut Jace down, because, _wow_ , talk about hypocrisy considering what they just found out. 

Cat is faster.

“I’m going to stop both of you right there,” she says. “You need time to process what you’ve discovered, and I also think finding an outside party who can help you work through the emotional side of this would be a very good idea. I’m a healer, not a therapist, and I’d firmly recommend that you have access to both.”

Everything inside Alec balks at the suggestion, and through the bond, he can feel a similar reaction on Jace’s end.

“Can’t we just—” he tries, and then breaks off, because he can’t think of a way to finish the sentence. He just wants to go back in time somehow and _not_ summon the Memory Demon and just not have to deal with any of this.

It all comes back to Clary waltzing into their lives, destroying everything around her in the process. Alec feels his anger burn bright and hot at the thought.

Next to him, Jace lets out a disbelieving laugh. “Go fuck yourself.”

“Okay, _stop_ ,” Cat says, and a wave of cool magic washes over Alec, physically calming him down. “Rule number one for fixing this: no telepathy. Speak your thoughts and feelings instead of trying to push them on each other through the bond.”

Alec takes a deep breath and forces himself to nod. With the anger gone, the cold, uneasy feeling is crippling; he just wants to get out of there.

“Any kind of heightened and shared emotional state is going to set off the bond right now,” Cat continues. “So try to avoid getting into fights with each other. Use a buffer to avoid being alone together—Isabelle, for example—and no sex. I’m very serious about that. Sharing that kind of connection with each other right now could literally kill you.”

Alec feels like his entire face is burning. He can sense Jace mirror the discomfort through the bond, which only makes the whole thing worse.

“We, um, we don’t do… that,” he manages, sharing a quick look with Jace, who nods empathically in agreement. “So, yeah. Won’t be a problem.” 

“Good, keep it that way,” Cat says simply. “I’ll make some enquiries about available therapists at work. Speaking of which, I have a shift in an hour, so if you’re ready to go, I’ll walk you out.”

She gets to her feet and snaps her fingers; the blue of her skin transforms into a dark brown and a hospital identity card appears at the front of her shirt.

“You work as a mundane nurse?” Jace asks, echoing Alec’s own surprise.

“For the past fifty years or so,” Cat replies. “Immortality gets boring after a while, and I’m a healer. Everyone’s bodies break sometimes, no matter the composition of the blood in our veins.”

The sentence feels strangely pointed to Alec, but he doesn’t have any mental energy left to figure out the underlying implications. He gets out of his chair and follows Catarina and Jace out of the loft, keeping himself at a short distance behind them as they walk.


	8. Forsaken

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A Forsaken attacks the Jade Wolf and Magnus is called to the Institute for a consult.

Heading back to the Institute with Jace after leaving Magnus’ loft is beyond awkward. Alec has never wished for a demon attack more than he does right then, and from the way Jace is scanning their surroundings with an almost desperate look in his eyes, he figures the feeling is mutual.

The bond is relatively quiet for now, and Alec does his best to keep it that way, shutting down his thoughts as they pop up and putting all his focus on the mission. They’re about half-way back when Alec’s phone rings, breaking the tense silence between them.

“Alec speaking.”

“It’s Luke,” comes a tired voice on the other end of the line. “We’ve had an attack on the Jade Wolf.”

“When?” Alec asks, automatically moving closer to Jace and holding the phone up between them.

“Just now. Two Circle members brought a forsaken over. We took it out, but there’s something weird about it. Doesn’t smell quite right for one thing, and it was way stronger than it should have been.”

“Any casualties?”

“No, we were lucky this time. Most of the pack was here, so we had the odds on our side. Still, it took five wolves to take that thing out; it wasn’t normal.”

“We’ll be right there,” Alec replies. He ends the call and looks at Jace. “You in?”

He holds up his hand, the same way they always have, and gets a flash of Jace’s uncertainty through the bond, as well as the fierce determination when the feeling gets pushed down and the bond goes back to being silent.

“Always,” Jace tells him, raising his own hand and joining it with Alec’s. 

Alec blinks, feeling the familiar lightness in his chest when their heartbeats match up. For the first time since that morning things between them don’t feel like they’re completely falling apart, and the bond quiets down, withdrawing from a distinct hum to its familiar, steady presence in the background.

He manages a jerky nod, and then pulls his hand back. “Let’s go to work.”

* * *

The interior of the Jade Wolf is in shambles, broken chairs and tables littering the floor. Luke meets them at the door, gives them a quick rundown of the attack and then takes them to the middle of the restaurant, where a dead body is lying on the floor.

Jace sits down next to it and does a quick examination while Alec picks up what looks like a club lying next to it. Not a refined weapon, but Alec has no doubt it’s an effective one, especially for a creature fuelled by mindless rage.

“Well, it looks like a forsaken,” Jace says, drawing Alec’s attention towards the body on the floor. “It was human. It was runed. Seems pretty clear-cut to me.”

“I don’t know,” Luke replies. “It was stronger, more determined. It attacked like it had a plan. Plus, a normal forsaken wouldn’t have been so hard to kill.” He gestures around the room, where various members of his pack are having their injuries tended to.

Alec nods. “We’ll take it back to the Institute,” he decides, his mind already on the report he’ll need to write for the Clave. “Do a full autopsy.”

“Whoa. I get that I called you,” Luke says. “But I didn’t want for someone to come down here and just take over. This attack took place on my turf. I get a say in what happens.”

“Come on, we’re all on the same side here,” Jace says. “The Institute has the resources to find out what this thing is. We have an expert forensic pathologist, highly trained in all the creatures of the Shadow World. I’m not seeing one of those around here.”

“Actually…” Alec looks between Jace and Luke, takes note of the tension in Luke’s shoulders and the way the other werewolves in the room suddenly seem a lot more interested in what the three of them are doing. “Luke is right; this is his jurisdiction, and we just overstepped.”

Jace scoffs, and then looks up at Alec, a frown forming on his face. “Wait. you’re serious?”

“We need to do a better job living up to the Accords, not just enforcing them,” Alec replies, and notes how the tension in the room seems to morph into a mix of wariness and surprise. He turns to Luke, who’s watching him with interest. “How about this: we take the body back to the Institute for the autopsy, and you or a member of your pack comes along as well. A joint investigation.”

“Fine by me,” Luke replies, a hint of a smile on his lips. “Alaric!” he calls out, and the man Alec met when they were fighting in the tunnels around the precinct steps out of the kitchen area and comes to stand on Luke’s right-hand side.

“Please assist Lightwood in escorting this body back to the New York Institute for further investigation,” Luke tells him. “And report back to me with what you find.”

“Will do,” Alaric replies. “There’s a delivery van out back we can use for transport. I’ll go see about getting it ready.”

“Thank you,” Alec says. “Jace, take some pictures of the body and send to Izzy while we finish up here, please? She’ll want to start working right away.”

He turns to Luke. “Do you think Valentine was behind this?”

“No question,” Luke replies. “It’s definitely his work.”

“What do you think he’s after?”

Luke looks at him, his dark eyes meeting Alec’s steadily. “Honestly? Me.”

Alec frowns. “You think Valentine is going after ex-Circle members?”

“I don’t know,” Luke says. “Might be kind of personal; we have a complicated past, and considering the spies he sent around before Jocelyn was taken, I imagine he thinks he has even more of a reason to hate me now than before. But of course he could be going after the old crew. I’m sure Valentine has a grudge against anyone who turned against him.” He gives Alec a meaningful look.

“Right,” Alec says, feeling a ripple of fear run down his spine. The helpless anger towards his parents has cooled into determination now that he has a plan to secure the Institute and get it away from their influence. Underneath it, he’s still furious, though—at them and at himself. And while he knows in his heart he’ll never trust them again, they’re still his parents, and as much as Alec wishes he didn’t care what happens to them, he still does.

“Might be a good idea to call in Magnus, as well,” Luke suggests. “The way this forsaken moved and how strong it was… might be dark magic involved.”

“Yeah, that’s a good idea. I’ll call him on the way back.”

“Keep me posted,” Luke says, stepping aside to let Alaric and another werewolf through to pick up the body. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a lot of cleaning up to do.”

* * *

Izzy dives into the investigation, just like Alec knew she would. He watches for a bit as she needles Magnus to hurry up with his magical analysis, and notes the easy way they work around each other, trading quips mixed with scientific facts that go right over Alec’s head, while Alaric assists them, holding his own in their conversation.

Alec leaves the three of them to it and spends the rest of his morning writing reports for the Clave. And then, after he’s steeled himself for a good, long while, he goes to find his parents.

“Alec! Come in,” his mother greets him, ushering him into the Heads’ apartment, where she and his dad are having lunch. “How are you feeling?”

“Um, I’m good,” Alec replies, forcing himself to give her a smile. “Better. Actually, I’ve had some time to think, and I wanted to come by and apologise. My outburst before was childish. It won’t happen again.”

“It’s quite alright,” his dad replies, and Alec sees his parents exchange a pleased look. “We know being young can be terribly confusing. We all make mistakes. But that doesn’t mean we can’t move past them.”

Alec silently counts to ten in his head and forces himself to keep smiling.

“Speaking of,” he says, and then pauses, hoping his face is striking the right balance between apologetic and professional. “We’ve just had a report that Valentine might be going after ex-Circle members. And while I’m more than happy to have your support here, I think it might be more tactical for us if you were to go back to Idris for the moment. At least until we can find a good candidate for… that other thing we talked about.”

He ducks his head, forcing back the sick feeling that rises inside of him. Just another half hour or so, and then he can go back to his life and try to forget this whole thing.

“And you think he might be coming here?” his mom asks, her voice shifting over into something crisply professional. “What are the facts?”

“An enhanced forsaken sent to take out Luke Garroway,” Alec replies. “Obviously, Valentine couldn’t use the same approach here, with our wards, but I’d rather be safe than sorry. Especially with Max.”

“Oh yes, Max will have to go back to Mumbai immediately,” Maryse replies. “Your father and I should stay here, though. Make sure we display a united front. We’ll strengthen the wards, make sure Valentine won’t get past our defenses.”

“Won’t that look suspicious, though?” Alec tries. “I mean, we can’t do anything about Hodge. He’s stuck here, and since he never technically betrayed Valentine, he might be safe from his revenge. Or at least that’s how the Clave will see it. Justifying the expense to contract a warlock might make people talk. And, I don’t know—wouldn’t that be bad for… negotiations?”

He can’t quite hide his wince as he says the last word. Luckily, his parents seem to take it exactly the wrong way.

“Alec. We’ll get you through this,” his dad says, walking up to him and putting what is probably supposed to be a reassuring hand on Alec’s shoulder. “We’re all here for you. You’ll be fine.”

“I want to lead this Institute and carry on our name,” Alec says firmly, looking his dad in the eyes and squaring his shoulders. “It’s all I’ve ever wanted. And I know I—lost sight of it, there for a bit, but I’m back in control now. You lose your path, you focus, and you find your way back, right?”

“Exactly right,” his mom says. “We’re very proud of you, Alec. You’ll be a great leader for this Institute one day.”

Alec forces another smile unto his lips. “No, um. I appreciate it. It’s a bit overwhelming right now, but with a little more time, I’m sure I can… adjust. It’ll be fine.”

“It will be, I promise,” his dad assures him. “And, Maryse, maybe Alec has a point. We’d have better access to information in Idris about what decisions are being made with regards to Valentine, after all.”

“Any information you could get would be great,” Alec says, holding his breath as he watches his mother deliberate on the pros and cons in her head.

“Very well, we’ll take Max back to school right away and then continue on to Idris,” she says, finally, and Alec suppresses a sigh of relief. “And I want daily reports. With Valentine plotting against us, we need clear and active communication.”

“Of course,” Alec replies. “I’ll see to it.”

He stays another couple of minutes, letting his mother remind him of things he already knows, and then withdraws from the room, citing work as his excuse.

* * *

There’s something deeply satisfying to Alec about hitting a punching bag until his muscles are sore from it and his hands are aching. The low-level pain is grounding, and the repetitiveness of movement helps him empty his mind, dial back his thoughts until there’s nothing but white noise and the sound of his own heartbeat.

He doesn’t even know how long he’s been going at it when he notices movement to his left. 

“Magnus.”

Magnus stands frozen at the edge of the training room floor, and Alec feels a thrill run up his spine when he realises what is drawing Magnus’ focus. He shifts his weight slightly and can’t keep back a smile when Magnus’ eyes follow the movement. He does it again, more deliberately this time, and watches Magnus follow once more, before he catches himself and turns his attention back up to Alec’s face.

“Okay. I’m back,” Magnus says, giving himself a little shake. His eyes drop back down to Alec’s chest almost immediately, and Alec bites his lower lip, trying to keep himself from smiling at the flustered look on Magnus’ face.

Not bothering to go back to his room for a tank top before training was clearly a great move. Alec might need to make a habit of it whenever Magnus is around.

Provided Magnus decides he still wants to come around once they figure everything out, that is. Something clenches painfully in Alec’s chest at the thought.

Magnus is still staring, however, so Alec decides to take pity on him, walking over to a bench and picking up a zip-up hoodie.

“Oh, you don’t have to get dressed up for me,” Magnus says, the bravado appearing a little too late for the line to actually work. Alec raises an eyebrow in his direction as he shrugs the hoodie on, and Magnus rolls his eyes, like he knows he’s been caught but is deciding to be shamelessly unbothered by it. “ _Fine_. But I like what I saw.”

Alec shoots him a highly unimpressed look. And then deliberately leaves the hoodie unzipped as he walks closer to him. “So, what can I help you with?”

Magnus narrows his eyes in warning, and then visibly pulls himself together—a pleasant, professional smile appearing on his face.

“I have the preliminary autopsy findings. The invoice for my services is in there as well; it’s always good to have that part cleared and out of the way.”

He hands a file over, and Alec takes it, flipping it over to start skimming through the text on the first page. “Great. So what did you find?”

“No magic was used in creating the forsaken, as far as I can tell,” Magnus replies. “So the answers you’re looking for will likely be in the chemical analysis of one of the many, _many_ samples Isabelle pulled. She really is quite extraordinary, isn’t she?”

“She’s the smartest person I know,” Alec tells him, a fond smile spreading across his lips. “For as long as I can remember, she’s just loved to learn new things.”

“I can tell. She makes me feel quite inadequate with the amount of knowledge she’s managed to pick up in the short amount of time she’s been alive, to be perfectly honest. Just learning the basics of a new craft takes me at least a decade.”

“Somehow, I find that hard to believe,” Alec says. “From what I understand, High Warlock isn’t exactly an easy title to get awarded.”

“Actually, it’s less difficult than you’d think,” Magnus replies. “Even with immortality on our side, there aren’t a lot of warlocks who make it past the first few centuries. Too many creatures who see us either as threats to eliminate or trophies to win and pick apart.”

There’s an undertone of bitterness in his voice, and the mood between them turns a little darker. Alec has a flash of memory back to the day they met, and a surge of shame goes through him as he realises that he never even bothered to find out how many of the warlocks in Magnus’ lair made it out of the attack alive.

“I’m sorry, I never—I’ve been so focused on my stuff that I didn’t even ask how—”

“Five dead, twenty-two injured in the past week,” Magnus replies quietly. “We lost Elias when my lair was attacked, Alistair and Frigg when the Circle found our new one, and Dorothea and Marie outside of our wards.”

“Magnus, I’m so sorry.”

He reaches forward on instinct, putting a tentative hand on Magnus’ arm. Magnus’ breath shudders, and the adam’s apple of his throat bobs as he swallows. He puts his own hand over Alec’s and just holds it there for a while, squeezing it once before letting it go and pulling himself back a step.

“I can’t afford to think about that right now, though,” Magnus says. “Not until we eliminate Valentine, I—” He breaks off, and Alec sees him close his eyes tightly for a second. “I need to keep my focus on making sure that everyone who’s still alive stays safe.”

Alec nods. “If there’s anything I can do...”

Magnus shakes his head ruefully. “Apart from catching Valentine? Not a whole lot, I’m afraid.”

The soft rebuff isn’t wholly surprising, but it manages to sting a little, all the same. “Right. Of course. Well, if anything comes up?”

“I’ll make sure to let you know,” Magnus replies, a hint of a soft smile at the corner of his mouth. “How are you doing? With—you know. Everything?” 

“Not great,” Alec admits, wincing as he removes the tape around his hands and shakes them out. “Magnus, it’s like my whole life has been a lie. And everything I’ve even known is—”

“It’s not what you thought.”

Alec nods. He turns his head and fixes his gaze on the painted windows, following the black lines between the panes as he tries to articulate the chaos inside his head. 

“I’m not in love with Jace,” he says, finally.

“Alright,” Magnus replies carefully. “Any particular reason you’re telling me that right now?”

“I don’t know. I just—” Alec breaks off, pulling a hand through his hair. “I guess it’s… I thought I was. For a long time. And now we find out that—Cat said we were together for at least six months. That’s crazy.”

“It’s a pretty long relationship, especially when you factor in how young you both must have been,” Magnus agrees. “I read the file you brought over. I think you’re correct in concluding that the incident reported in it is a coverup for whatever happened before the memory spell was done.”

“Yeah. I can’t—I mean, if that’s true? Then that means we hurt people, Magnus. The report says three people almost died, because we—” he breaks off, fighting back the growing, suffocating pressure in his chest. 

“All my life, I’ve lived by the rules. I’ve done everything for my parents. For the Clave. And—it’s—I’ve done everything that they’ve asked. Always put their needs before mine— _repressed this huge part of me_ —and now I’m wondering if that was all… because of some kind of deep guilt I couldn’t get rid of, that some part of me still knew that I did this. That I selfishly went after what I wanted once and almost destroyed _everything_.”

“Hey,” Magnus says, reaching out and putting both hands on Alec’s arms. “Deep breaths. This is not your fault.”

“It is,” Alec replies, hearing his voice catch on the words. “If I hadn’t—if _we_ hadn’t—then—”

“And if the Clave had been less prejudiced and secretive, you would have known how to prevent the bond mutation from happening,” Magnus tells him firmly. “There are ways, Alec—magic that can be used, artifacts that make sure two souls don’t mix together too much, even with the strongest bond and the most intimate relationship. You and Jace aren’t exactly the first _parabatai_ to develop feelings for each other. In fact, I’d say it’s more common than not, and the Clave’s main strategy for stopping it is discouraging bonding between people of opposite genders—as though that would solve anything. The ignorance is on them, not you. I know better than anyone that falling in love ends in disaster sometimes, but it’s never love itself that’s the problem. You’ve got nothing to be ashamed of.”

He pulls Alec closer, inviting him in for a hug, and Alec goes gratefully, wrapping himself up tightly in Magnus and hiding his face against his throat. He can feel his entire body trembling, and for once, he doesn’t try to push it down, just holds on to Magnus desperately until he feels as though he can breathe again.

“I’m sorry, I think I’ve ruined your shirt.” 

“Doesn’t matter,” Magnus says, reaching up and helping Alec wipe some of the wetness from under his eyes. “I just wish there was something more I could do to help. Seeing you in this much pain, it’s… very unpleasant.”

Alec feels a hollow laugh break from his throat. “Yeah, it’s not that great for me either.”

“Hey, why don’t we go out to dinner tonight?” Magnus suggests. “Somewhere out in public, a change of scenery for both of us. I was talking to Raphael earlier about what you and Luke discussed. He’s interested in a meeting. We could bring Luke too, have a casual dinner, maybe save the world a little bit?”

Alec laughs again, running the heels of his hands quickly beneath his eyes. “Uh, yeah sure. Why not?”

“Perfect,” Magnus says, taking a step back. “I’ll arrange it and text you the details.”

“Thanks, I—” Alec breaks off, looking up from the floor to meet Magnus’ eyes. “Magnus, I’m sorry I’m such a mess. We’re all in the middle of what’s quickly escalating towards a war, and I’m just… bringing all this drama into your life on top of that.”

“I’m not going to say the timing couldn’t have been better,” Magnus replies. “But I do want to help you. And after we figure it out and life happens—the way it always does—I’m sure there’ll be lots of moments when I’ll be a mess right back. You can return the favour then.”

Alec sees worry flash through Magnus’ eyes right after he says it, his lips pressing together in a tight line. Intended or not, however, the words spark a fierce hope in Alec’s chest, and he’s suddenly desperate for Magnus to know it, to give him something back in face of the utter crap of a situation they’re in. 

He reaches forward and catches Magnus’ hand in his, running his thumb gently across Magnus’ knuckles. “I’d love that.”

Magnus visibly swallows, and his eyes drop to the floor. When he looks back up, the deep brown looks suspiciously brighter than before.

“I’ll see you tonight,” Magnus says, raising their joined hands to his lips and pressing a kiss against the back of Alec’s. 

Alec nods, and then, on impulse, mirrors Magnus’ gesture by pulling him a little closer by their joined hands and ducking his head to place a warm, grateful kiss to the inside of his wrist.

Magnus’ breath catches, and when Alec looks up, Magnus’ eyes are a shade darker than usual. The expression in them makes Alec ache to pull him close, wrap himself up in him and just forget about everything and everyone else.

“There are no words for how badly I want to kiss you right now,” Magnus murmurs, and Alec closes his eyes, not trusting himself to reply.

He sways forward, helplessly pulled into Magnus’ orbit. Their foreheads touch, and Alec takes a moment to bask in the overwhelming intimacy of it.

His entire life feels like it’s spiralling into chaos, throwing everything he thought he knew into question. Magnus is the exception—when Alec is with him like this, his head, heart and body finally feel like they all align and pull him in the same direction.

He’s not sure what it means, or what will come of it.

Maybe he doesn’t need to, yet.

“I should get going,” Magnus tells him. He doesn’t make any attempts to move away.

Alec nods and doesn’t move either. “That’s probably a good idea.”

They stand there, looking at each other for another for another couple of moments, before Magnus steps back, a small, hidden smile on his lips. “I’ll see you tonight.”

Alec clears his throat and stands up a little straighter. “Yeah. Let me know where and when?”

“Will do. Goodbye for now, then?” Magnus says, his inflection rising at the end, as though he’s just as reluctant as Alec to break up the moment.

Alec smiles and takes a step back. “Bye, Magnus.”

Magnus turns and walks out of the room. Alec’s eyes follow him until Magnus turns the corner and disappears out of sight.


	9. Allegro

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Downworlder Squad goes to dinner and Alec finds himself a bit out of his league.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this chapter took so long! On the bright side, it's twice as long as usual? :D?  
> It's also the chapter I had the most fun writing so far. I love the downworlders so much! Luke, Raphael and Magnus are awesome together. :)))
> 
> Thank you so much to everyone who read and commented on the last chapter. You guys really help push me along and keep me excited about writing this story. <333
> 
> (Also, for anyone who's confused by the timeline: I split up Simon becoming a vampire and the forsaken attacks to two different days because of pacing reasons. Canon divergence ftw!)

Alec stops outside a door displaying the number that Magnus texted him a few hours earlier and double checks the address. The simple black door is completely unassuming, giving no indication that there’s anything but a quiet, private residence inside. Alec checks his watch and winces as he realises that he’s a full twenty minutes early. Great.

Still, he feels stupid just standing on a street corner waiting for the others to arrive, so after a moment’s deliberation, he walks up and presses the doorbell.

“Welcome to Allegro, can I have your reservation, please?” a pleasant voice says.

“Um. It’s Lightwood?” Alec replies, looking around himself to find where the sound is coming from. “Actually, the reservation is probably under ‘Bane’. Sorry.”

“No problem at all,” the voice says. “Come right through, Mr Lightwood.”

There’s a soft ‘click’, and the door opens. Alec cautiously steps inside, scanning the room out of habit. There’s the sound of soft footsteps crossing the floor, and a warlock with a hawk’s beak and a decidedly feather-like look to his hair greets him, holding out his hand to take Alec’s jacket and introducing himself as Antoine.

“I’m sorry, but I’ll have to take those as well,” he says, a wisp of green magic springing from his fingers and lighting up the different points on Alec’s body where weapons are hidden. “Restaurant security policy.”

“Oh. I’m not sure I can—”

“Here, I’ll show you how it works,” Antoine says, gesturing for Alec to follow him into a large cloakroom off to one side. “We have personal lockers for each customer. You put your signature magic here—in your case, that would be a locking rune—and there’s an interdimensional pocket inside that will hold your belongings until you, personally, retrieve them. It’s 100% secure. We’ve been in business for close to 500 years, and it hasn’t failed us yet.”

Alec nods and does as told, pulling his seraph blade, the two smaller knives he always has on him and—after another few moments of hesitation—his glamoured bow and quiver into the locker before taking out his stele and drawing a quick locking rune.

“What about this?” he asks, holding up his stele in front of him.

“You can keep that on you,” Antoine replies. “We don’t require our vampire customers to remove their fangs or our warlock customers to chain their magic, after all. Just know that there are powerful wards on this establishment. Any attempt to harm another guest or a member of staff will… not be pleasant, let’s just leave it at that.”

“Understood,” Alec says, and the warlock smiles and gestures for him to follow his lead.

A short elevator ride later, Alec is lead into a lounge area, where various downworlders are sitting in smaller groups, having drinks and talking.

“Your group is over by the fireplace,” Antoine tells him, and Alec looks over and spots Raphael sprawling on a leather couch with a drink in his hand, having a conversation with a second man that Alec doesn’t recognise. “Can I get you a drink to start?”

“Sure, um, a glass of wine would be nice,” Alec replies. “Red, please. Something full-bodied but smooth.”

“Certainly. I’ll bring some suggestions over.”

Alec thanks him and crosses the room, walking over to Raphael and extending his hand.

“Raphael. Nice to see you again.”

“Pleasure’s all mine,” Raphael replies, squeezing Alec’s hand a little harder than strictly necessary. “And I believe you and my fledgeling already know each other.”

Alec turns his head, and his eyes widen a fraction when he recognises Simon. He looks a great deal different from when Alec last saw him—glasses gone, hair combed down, t-shirt and jeans replaced by a black suit, shirt and tie.

He looks like a copy of Raphael, down to the unnaturally pale skin and suspiciously red drink in his hand. Alec isn’t sure how to react.

“What’s he doing here?” he asks Raphael, his words coming out a bit sharper than intended.

“I’m teaching him the ins and outs of being a vampire,” Raphael replies. “See, I promised I’d protect him, so I couldn’t just leave him at the hotel. He’s all new, you see, doesn’t know how to defend himself yet. And you never know who might break into your home all of a sudden and start killing people who get in their way.”

Alec stiffens, and to his left, he can tell that Simon is starting to fidget in his seat. Raphael raises an eyebrow in challenge, and Alec quickly weighs his options, pushing down an irrational sense of frustration that rushes up inside of him.

“I’m sorry things turned out that way,” he says. “It wasn’t the goal of the operation, obviously; we just wanted Simon out.”

Raphael narrows his eyes. “Pretty ironic considering the end result, don’t you think?” He nods meaningfully in Simon’s direction.

The sense of frustration spikes, and Alec mentally checks himself, unsure of why Raphael’s words are causing such a strong reaction within him. Thankfully, Antoine chooses that moment to come back, presenting three different bottles of wine for Alec to taste. Alec takes his time asking him questions about each one before making his choice, and then sits down on a couch opposite Raphael and Simon.

“How are things at the DuMort with Camille gone?” he asks. “Are the other vampires happy with the change in leadership?”

“Considering I’ve been running daily operations for the Clan for the past ten years, there’s not really much of a change,” Raphael replies. “But sure, the Clan is happy enough.”

“Did the transfer of authority papers come through alright from Lydia?”

“Oh yes. And they were _very_ pretty. Big red wax seal and all; I feel downright privileged having them in my office.”

Alec takes a sip of his glass of wine and suppresses the need to roll his eyes. It’s clear that Raphael is trying to get a reaction out of him, and Alec’s not about to let himself be goaded.

Something inside of him seems set on disagreeing, but Alec takes a slow breath and opts for ignoring it. He’s probably just tired, or still on edge from the emotional rollercoaster of the last couple of days. His bond is quiet, at least, which helps with pushing the worry away. 

“How about you, Simon?” he asks. “Settling in okay?”

Simon looks up in surprise. “Me? Sure, yeah. I’m good. I mean, obviously not good, with the being dead and all—undead, I mean—wow, it’s seriously going to take me some time to get used to saying that—but what I mean is that, yeah, I’m doing okay. Raphael’s been great. The DuMort is awesome. I mean, I’m living in a swanky hotel—what’s not to like, right?”

There’s a definite nervous energy about him—even more than Alec’s seen before, which is saying something—and it seems to be getting worse the longer Alec looks at him. Alec’s eyes flicker over to Raphael, noting increased tension in his body language as well.

Something’s not right. He takes a closer look, scanning Simon from head to toe—how he sits, how he moves when he fidgets.

Just how much of his body is covered up by the dark clothes. 

“Why did Raphael really bring you here tonight?” he asks, lowering his voice a little. “It’s okay, Simon, you can tell me.”

“Maybe he just likes me?” Simon replies, and Alec notes how his eyes flicker to Raphael again. Raphael, who looks suddenly like he’s poised to strike if Alec says the wrong thing.

Alec waits, keeping his focus on Simon.

“I got in a fight with some of the other vampires,” Simon admits with a sigh. “Over Clary. And, well, the rest of you.” He shifts his position on the couch, wincing. “It’s okay, though. Raphael broke it up and made a decree that no one is allowed to touch me except for him. Which, wow, was really not meant in the way that I realise it just sounded like. I mean, right?” he asks, turning to Raphael with a worried look on his face. “You didn’t just effectively make sure I’ll never date again, did you? Because that would really suck, and not in the good way. Wait. Is the whole blood sucking during sex a thing? Do we do that?”

“God, you just never stop talking, do you?” Raphael says, but the annoyed expression on his face is in direct contradiction with how the angry tension seems to slowly seep out of his body the longer Simon is talking. “And why are you so worried about your sexlife, anyway? You haven’t been a vamp for more than a day and I’ve already seen three girls in your bed.”

“That’s not—!” Simon protests. “Clary cried all over me, then Maureen came over so I could break the news about the whole vampire thing and told me I’m the worst not-boyfriend-slash-best-friend ever for not telling her what was really going on when I was all high on the vamp endorphins or whatever. And the third one was beating me up!”

He looks so indignant that Alec can’t hold back a grin. He quickly hides it by taking another sip of his wine when Simon turns to glare at him.

“It’s not funny!”

“It’s a little funny,” Raphael replies, clearly holding back a smile as well. “Don’t worry, though. I’m sure you’ll have the bloodlust under control enough to sleep with mundanes again in, oh, six months to a year. Something like that.”

“I hate you,” Simon says. “Both of you. When’s Luke getting here? I need someone who’s going to be in my corner if you guys are going to gang up on me.”

“Don’t worry, I don’t see me and Mr Shadowhunter here being bffs anytime soon,” Raphael drawls.

Alec rolls his eyes. “Why? Because shadowhunters and vampires don’t get along?”

“No, because you killed eleven members of my Clan, you dipshit,” Raphael snaps. “What? You thought I’d just forgive and forget? You broke into our home and opened fire, and yet, you’re still the Acting Head of the New York Institute. Funny how that works.”

Alec grits his teeth, the sense of frustration rising again. “Look, I already said I was sorry. Things went badly during that mission, I recognise that. But it’s not like you’re without fault. If you hadn’t broken the Accords, then—” 

It’s clearly the wrong thing to say. Raphael’s eyes harden, his fangs drop and a hiss breaks from his throat, cutting Alec off. 

“Steven,” Raphael says quietly, his voice wavering slightly with thinly concealed rage. “Rachel. Kayla. D’Shawn. Esmeralda. Tom. Laurenzo. Adele. Jésus. Elijah. Hakim. People in my clan. People I considered family. And you and your Shadowhunter friends crept inside their safe space— _our_ safe space—and slaughtered them.”

The words hit Alec like a slap in the face, setting his mind reeling into the compact silence that follows. His training kicks in and pushes down the visceral reaction almost immediately, but a deep unease remains. Alec swallows, his eyes breaking contact with Raphael’s despite the little voice at the back of his head that’s telling him not to show weakness—to keep holding his ground.

“You kidnapped Simon,” he hears himself argue. “His life was in danger and we needed to act. The Accords state—”

“That’s a bullshit excuse, and you know it,” Raphael says. “If you were so concerned about the Accords, you’d have made an official complaint to the Clave, and they would have sent us a thinly veiled threat through the official channels to have him released. Now, I know Camille’s an absolute bitch. I’ve known that for a long time. She takes what she wants, and she couldn’t care less about the Accords, or anyone’s life if it doesn’t directly amuse or benefit her. But we had ways around her. _I_ had ways. If you’d just waited another couple of hours, Camille would have drunk her fill and got bored. And then I would have been able to have him strategically dumped in a nearby ally, ready for pickup. And my Clan members would still be alive.”

“We had no way of knowing that. You threatened to kill him if we didn’t give you the Cup.”

“What kind of punishment did the Clave give you?” Raphael asks. “A slap on the fingers? Or did they give you a reward even? A medal for helping keep us pesky vamps in check? I—”

“Um, guys?” Simon interrupts. “The floor’s on fire.”

Alec looks down and jumps in shock, pulling his feet away from the floor, where a sea of green flames have sprung up. Opposite him, Raphael swears and does the same.

“What’s happening?” Simon asks, a trace of panic in his voice as the flames grow higher.

“It’s the protection wards,” Raphael answers, swearing again as a particularly high flame laps the underside of his shoe. “Fine! We get the message, and we’re very sorry!” he calls out over his shoulder to no one in particular. 

The flames fall back, disappearing from view and leaving no visible trace behind.

“More drinks?” Antoine asks, appearing out of nowhere with a far too serene smile on his face. “We have a frozen cocktail special, if you need some help to cool down.”

“I’ll have one,” Simon says immediately. “Oh. Actually—” He looks at Raphael questioningly, “can I—? I mean, with the whole blood-only thing?” 

“We do a lovely vampire-friendly frozen blood orange daiquiri,” Antoine suggests, making Simon’s face light up.

“Perfect. Thank you.”

“How about the two of you?” Antoine asks, looking at Alec and Raphael in turn. “Anything else?”

“I’ll have another one of these,” Raphael replies, gesturing at his half-empty glass. “Extra strong, please.”

“I’m good for now, thanks,” Alec says. He waits until the warlock is out of sight before turning his focus back to Raphael and Simon, trying to figure out how to best express the mess of thoughts and emotions that have sprung up inside his head. The frustration and anger have gone as quickly as they came, and Alec’s heart is plummeting into the space they left behind, shame and guilt welling up and mixing with a sense of disbelief at his own reactions.

“I’m sorry we killed your people,” he says eventually.

Raphael narrows his eyes. “But...?”

“No buts,” Alec replies, then takes a long, slow breath to steady his pulse and further clear his head. “We lose people at the Institute as well. It’s in the nature of what we do, but it still hurts every time. I’m sorry we caused you that pain.”

Raphael stares at him, his eyes guarded, but with an undertone of surprise. After a long, uncomfortable silence, he gives Alec the smallest of nods.

For some reason, that only makes Alec feel worse. 

“So, magical fire, huh?” Simon says, too brightly. “Anything else in this place that might jump out and try to kill me that I should know about?”

“Magical fire doesn’t kill you unless the warlock casting the spell wants it to,” Raphael tells him. “And it’d be pretty stupid for a restaurant to start killing off its customers.”

“Oh really? Then why did you jump, like, ten feet into the air?”

“I’m keeping my reflexes sharp. It’s a good thing—you should practice it more, considering how easy you are to get the drop on.”

Simon sends him a dirty look. Raphael rolls his eyes, a hint of a smile playing at the corner of his lips.

“The rest of your party is here,” Antoine says, appearing out of what seems like thin air once more, handing new drinks to Simon and Raphael. “If you’ll follow me, I’ll show you to your table.”

Alec nods and gets to his feet. Antoine takes them through a set of heavy oak doors and into a small, intimate dining room with about half a dozen tables.

Alec spots Luke and Magnus immediately. They’re standing next to a round table set for five with their heads together, clearly in the middle of a conversation.

“...don’t understand why that means you can’t track her,” he hears Luke say as they approach. “I’ve seen you track across great distances before.”

“Valentine is probably cloaking himself in every way he can,” Magnus replies. “We’re trying, Luke, but it’s not easy. Wherever Jocelyn is being held is very far away, and there are so many things blocking the signal between here and there—wherever ‘there’ even is. I—” He turns around, recognises their group, and something inside Alec’s chest does a little flip as Magnus’ eyes lock onto his.

A smile spreads on Magnus’ face as Alec walks closer, and then his eyes drop for a highly unsubtle once-over. The flip happens again, and Alec has to physically stop himself from walking faster.

“Alexander. You look amazing, as always,” Magnus says, stepping to the side to create space for Alec to move in front of the seat next to the one Magnus has claimed for himself.

Alec smiles back at him, and then takes a step closer than strictly necessary, hesitating for a split second before giving in to the urge to lean in and press a quick kiss to Magnus’ cheek, in front of everyone. “So do you.”

Magnus looks back at him, surprise written all over his face. Alec holds his gaze, and something soft and utterly vulnerable flashes through Magnus’ eyes, making Alec yearn to lean in and kiss him properly.

He ducks his head, feeling a blush start to spread across the back of his neck. He can feel his own heart speed up, the way it makes his blood rush through his veins, making him feel almost dizzy.

Less than twelve hours apart, and Alec is turning into an absolute mess of swirling hormones and emotion. He really needs to get a good night’s sleep at some point. Before he utterly embarrasses himself, preferably.

“Wow, you guys are _so_ into each other,” comes Simon’s voice from across the table, breaking both Alec and Magnus out of the moment. “I mean, Clary said, and it was pretty obvious from when we were doing that whole saving Luke thing, but seriously. You guys have _levelled up_.”

Alec feels Magnus stiffen next to him and pull back a bit. As a result, the look Alec throws Simon comes out more as more of a glare than the simple show of exasperation he intended.

Simon looks taken aback, but thankfully doesn’t comment further. A tense silence spreads between them until Luke not-so-subtly clears his throat, drawing everyone’s attention.

“Everyone take a seat?” he suggests, pulling out his own chair. “I know we’re all busy with what’s going on, so how about we have dinner and get right to the point?”

“Fine by me,” Raphael says. “Someone pass me a couple of menus? I should get Simon fed before he starts snacking on one of you.”

“But I can’t eat food anymore,” Simon protests. “And I already have blood right here in my drink.”

“This is a warlock restaurant, and Magnus is buying,” Raphael tells him with a smile. “Remember what I told you—it’s all about presentation. Well, that, and a harmless illusion or two.”

Simon’s eyes widen. “What, really?”

“As long as you don’t go for something completely outrageous, then yes,” Magnus replies. “If you do, then Raphael’s buying your dinner.”

“No, I meant the food part,” Simon says. “I can have, like, something that looks and tastes like actual food?”

“The chef here’s very talented,” Magnus replies. “You can get anything on the menu in regular, vampire or seelie versions.” He looks away from Simon and turns to Luke. “The New York Strip here is great. And they’ll make it as rare as you want it.”

“You know, I think I might go for that,” Luke replies casually, though Alec can tell that his focus is all on Simon. “Look, Simon, they have cannelloni as one of their specials. You’ve always loved that.”

Simon ducks his head and doesn’t reply, and when Alec takes a closer look, he can tell that Simon’s shoulders are trembling, ever so slightly.

“Hey,” Luke says quietly, reaching across the table to give Simon’s forearm a quick squeeze. “You can do this, Simon. It’s just dinner.”

“You don’t get it, I thought I’d never—” Simon breaks off, a choked sound escaping from his throat. “I can really eat what they serve here?”

“Whatever you want,” Luke promises. “We can even get you dessert. And coffee.”

Simon looks like he might break into tears. Alec throws a quick look in Magnus’ direction and sees him do a discreet fist bump with Luke while pretending to point something out in the menu.

“How about you, darling?” Magnus asks, turning his attention to Alec. “What are you in the mood for tonight?”

“Please don’t answer that,” Raphael deadpans. “I know far too much about Magnus’ sex life already.”

“Everyone knows too much about Magnus’ sex life,” Luke says, raising an eyebrow in Magnus’ direction. “Sorry, my friend, but you do tend to overshare.”

“Please ignore my so-called friends and their complete lack of manners,” Magnus tells Alec, rolling his eyes good-naturedly. Luke and Raphael both chuckle, and Alec’s hit by a sudden pang of insecurity.

It’s silly. Magnus is the High Warlock of Brooklyn, and a mind-blowing person all around. Of course he has close friends among the other Downworlders that he enjoys spending time with; Alec doesn’t know why seeing it in action makes him feel suddenly left out and lonely.

He pushes the feeling down and manages a smile, and must do a good enough job of it, because Magnus answers it with a smile of his own and then turns his attention back to Luke and Raphael, getting into a long and animated discussion where the goal seems to be to embarrass each other as much as possible. Simon takes to the dynamic like a fish to water, adding things about Luke and needling Raphael with a level of familiarity Alec did definitely not expect to see considering how short a time they’ve known each other.

“Disco? Really?” Luke is saying, looking between Raphael and Magnus sceptically. “I can’t really see it.”

“I swear it’s true,” Raphael says. “Pastel onesie and everything. And glitter. Jesus, so much glitter everywhere. You think this glam rock thing he’s got going on now is bad? Wait until you’re finding sequins every-fucking-where he’s been.”

“Now, you say that,” Magnus says, raising a finger, “but I dare you to find photo evidence.”

“Most people can at least claim they didn’t know better,” Raphael continues, raising an eyebrow. “But you’d think that after hundreds of years, someone would know a ridiculous fad when they saw it. Then again, this is also the man who was an early adopter of the twist.”

“If you weren’t banned from clubs for _ruining the mood_ , you might understand the charm in allowing yourself to be silly in company,” Magnus says airily. 

“That was _one time_ , in the _seventies_ ,” Raphael shoots back. “And for the record, I still think I was right. Ponies shouldn’t be on dance floors. Not even on someone’s quinceanera.”

“You have no sense of extravagance,” Magnus sighs. 

“I guess it’s a failing in me,” Raphael says. “On the upside, I’m still allowed in Peru.”

“Wait, what?” Simon interjects, laughing. “Are you _banned_ from Peru? How can you be banned from a whole country?”

Magnus makes a face. “Raphael exaggerates. There was this little incident with a cargo boat a few years back. They’re sure to have forgotten by now.” 

“He’s also banned from Greece,” Raphael says, smirking, sending Simon into another fit of laughter.

The uncertain feeling blooms into an ache in Alec’s chest, and makes him feel deeply uncomfortable. It’s the same kind of helpless jealousy that he used to feel around Jace when he was younger, the one he thought he finally got over a few years back.

He discreetly puts a hand over his rune, halfway hoping that it’ll burn hot and painful under his touch and provide an explanation. The bond is completely silent, and Alec has a moment of recklessness where he wants to reach inside and tug, see if Jace is feeling just as off balance as he is.

He stops himself, takes another deep breath and focuses on the conversation in front of him instead. It’s really quite amazing to see Magnus in his element like this, his body language relaxed and animated as he throws his head back to laugh at something Raphael just said. 

Magnus looks light and happy—carefree in a way Alec hasn’t seen him before—and it does something to Alec’s heart, a soft yearning igniting and spreading outwards, a growing want to see more of Magnus like this, all sarcastic wit and crinkles around his eyes.

“Did you decide on the food?” Magnus asks, pulling Alec out of his thoughts. “Sorry if we got a bit carried away there. It’s been a few years since the last time the three of us managed to get together properly.”

“Can I kiss you?” Alec replies, the words bubbling up from somewhere deep inside of him and just blurting from his mouth. Loudly.

Magnus’ eyes widen, and Alec sees his lips part on a surprised intake of breath as Alec’s eyes drop to his mouth. Magnus’ eyes flicker around the table, and then back to Alec, concern bleeding into his face.

“Are you okay?”

Alec gives himself a mental shake and pushes down the disappointment that washes over him, forcing a small smile unto his lips. His neck is burning something fierce, and he can’t believe that he just said that. In front of the others. At what is supposed to be an official meeting.

He swallows down the sudden lump in his throat and forces back the panic that is threatening to rise inside of him. “Sorry, I know we said—you just… you look really happy, talking to them. It’s nice to see.”

He mentally kicks himself at the awfulness of the excuse, and then loses his breath as he sees Magnus’ eyes flicker down to his lips.

Magnus looks around the table again and then snaps his fingers, a spark of magic shooting off into the air and shimmering into some kind of bubble around them. 

“Alright, now they can’t hear us. Are you really okay?”

“I think so. I’m… a bit off balance. It’s been a long day. And a very weird one.”

Magnus looks less than convinced “You sure that’s all it is? How’s your bond right now?”

“It’s good,” Alec replies. “Completely quiet, actually.”

For some reason, that makes the look of concern on Magnus’ face grow more pronounced rather than less so.

“This meeting is important,” Magnus says. “Perhaps, if you’re not feeling okay, it’d be better if you kept yourself back and just listened in for now.”

“What, no, I can still do my job,” Alec protests, taken aback. “Magnus, it was one slip of tongue. I’m good.”

“I’m just saying. Tension’s running high for everyone. Right now, stopping Valentine needs to be our number one priority, regardless of what’s happening on a… personal level.”

“Yeah, of course,” Alec replies, quietly wishing for a wall to repeatedly bang his head against. 

“Why don’t we head back to my place after we finish here?” Magnus suggests. “We both need to focus on the meeting now, but once it’s done we should talk some more.”

Alec manages a nod. “Yeah. Yeah, sure. That’d be… good.”

“To be continued, then,” Magnus tells him, before snapping his fingers and cancelling the magic bubble around them. Beneath the table, his left hand finds Alec’s right, squeezing it once before pulling back.

Alec looks around the table and feels his neck burn again at the too-casual expressions on everyone’s faces.

“Okay, so I’m totally going with the cannelloni,” Simon says, clapping his hands together. Alec looks over at him and realises that a server is standing by their table, notepad in hand.

“Can I still eat garlic?” Simon continues, looking over at Raphael for confirmation. “Awesome. Garlic bread on the side, then, please. Oh! And I want a Coke. I’m totally getting a Coke.”

“All vamp for him,” Raphael tells the server. “I’ll have the cod and a glass of white wine, also vamp. Magnus?”

“I’ll have the cod too,” Magnus says. “Regular. With that great buttery Chardonnay you have, please. Alec, would you care for white wine with dinner? If so, I’ll just get the bottle.”

“Sure, yeah, white’s fine,” Alec replies, quickly scanning the menu that’s been lying neglected next to his napkin so far. “And, um… the halibut, please.”

“Very good, and you, sir?” the server says, turning to Luke.

“New York Strip and something red that goes with it,” Luke replies. “Jacket potato and greens on the side, please.”

“Great. I’ll be right back with your drinks.”

The server leaves, and silence spreads across their table. Almost as one, they turn towards Luke, who clears his throat and leans forward a little.

“Right,” he says. “Let’s get down to business, then, shall we?”

* * *

“It’s my opinion that the Seelie Queen will be very reluctant to openly state an allegiance at this point,” Magnus says later, about half an hour into their dinner. “The seelies have the luxury of choosing what side to be on, after all. Not to mention that they can, technically, close off their entire realm and just wait it out, whatever happens.”

“Yeah, but if Valentine takes over, he’ll come for them eventually,” Luke argues. “And they depend on their trade agreements with the Clave to get the things they need from the mundane world.”

“They could get that from another dimension. I’m sure there are plenty of parallel ones with close enough conditions to ours to be serviceable. It would take a _lot_ of their magic to keep a setup like that running, but it could be done if they get truly desperate.”

“They’re heavily taxed on the mundane trade right now,” Alec adds. “Not to mention that many of the things they need are highly regulated and difficult for them to access. What if the Clave could offer them a better deal?” 

“Kind of hard for them to negotiate one when they’ve cut all communication with the Clave, though, don’t you think?” Luke asks, causing Alec’s eyebrows to rise in surprise. “Yeah, I know about that. It went through the grapevine like wild fire. I’m sure, by now, the entire Shadow World knows.”

“I’ve known for days,” Raphael adds casually. “For being as big on secrecy as the Clave is, Idris really is a gossipy place, isn’t it?”

“Or maybe you got the information straight from the seelies?” Alec suggests. “From what Izzy tells me, Meliorn and Camille are awfully close.”

“Only in the biblical sense,” Raphael replies, waving his hand dismissively. “Camille doesn’t like to mix work and play. And it’s a moot point anyway now that the Clave has her in custody. I graciously offered my assistance this afternoon for the case Ms Branwell is building against her. Camille won’t cause any trouble for the next couple of centuries, at least.”

“Unless the Clave falls and Valentine frees her,” Simon says, making all of them turn towards him. “I’m just saying. She’s a psycho who likes killing people, he’s a psycho who likes killing people—seems like a match made in heaven. Unite for the common evil and all that jazz.”

“No,” Magnus and Raphael say in unison.

“Camille might lead him on if she thinks it’ll benefit her,” Raphael explains. “But she’d kill him as soon as she got the opportunity.”

“Same with Valentine,” Luke says. “He might be willing to use her, short term, but anything more than that? No. The prejudice he has against vamps runs way too deep.”

“What’s the status with the warlocks, right now? Why do you think Valentine is targeting you as strongly as he has?” Alec asks, turning to Magnus. 

“He’s always hated them the most,” Luke replies, before Magnus has the chance to. “Because of the magic and the unique link to the pure demons through their blood.”

“Wait. I thought all us Downworlders had demon blood?” Simon asks.

“Yes and no,” Luke tells him. “Warlocks always have a demon parent, so they’re direct descendants, which is why their magic is so strong. Seelies have demon and angel blood, but they have their own children, so it’s the same blood going through generation after generation. And vampires and werewolves are turned. What demon blood we have is more of a shadow. It gives us our powers, and, in your case, immortality, but our magic is really faint.”

“Taking out the warlocks gives Valentine a tactical advantage,” Magnus says. “And we hold the Spiral Labyrinth. The power there is greater than anything Valentine could ever hope to amass.” He turns to Alec. “Speaking of, I’d like to move the Cup there as soon as possible. It’s the only place it’ll be truly safe.”

“What, no!” Raphael protests immediately. “The Cup is a formidable weapon. Locking it away isn’t going to win us this war.”

“Keeping it out of Valentine’s hands will ensure it doesn’t _lose_ us the war,” Magnus replies. “If he uses it to make an army of new shadowhunters, we’re all done for.”

“We could use it to our advantage,” Luke argues. “Lure Valentine out, find his base of operations.”

“The Clave would never allow that,” Alec says. “Or putting it in the Spiral Labyrinth. It’ll most likely go to the City of Bones for safekeeping until Valentine’s no longer a threat.”

“Since when is what the Clave wants a factor here?” Raphael asks. “They’re the ones who created the problem in the first place, and the ones who are keeping their heads firmly stuck in the sand now. I don’t see why they’d get a say.”

“The Cup is a shadowhunter artifact,” Alec replies, a bit sharper than he intended. “The Clave might not be perfect, but the Cup’s ours to protect. We’re already moving towards a war with Valentine. Do you really want to start one with the Clave as well?” The frustration from before rises again, and his eyes flicker to Magnus quickly, reaching out for him beneath the table to help anchor himself.

“That’d be inconvenient for you, wouldn’t it?” Raphael says, narrowing his eyes. “You claim to be all inclusive now, but I wonder what side you’d actually pick if it came down to it.”

“You sold out your Clan leader in a heartbeat to take her position,” Alec throws back, biting down around another few choice words that surge up and which he really has no business saying.

Magnus’ hand tightens its hold, as though he can sense Alec’s struggle. Alec takes a deep breath and focuses on the calming warmth that seeps into his own fingers.

“That was for the good of the Clan. And _you’re_ the one who orchestrated it,” Raphael throws back. “It’s not like I could just say no to a representative from the High Inquisitor’s office. I had a perfectly good plan in place when you and Lydia swooped in and took over.”

“It gave you official leadership of your Clan. Your position is acknowledged and protected by the Accords, and—” 

“The Accords have brought nothing but limitations and grief to my people,” Raphael snaps. “I don’t give a flying fuck about them, if you’ll pardon my French.”

Alec closes his eyes and counts to ten. “Then _why are you here?_ ”

“Because Magnus asked me to,” Raphael says simply. “I don’t trust you or your kin—not even a little—but I trust him implicitly. So if he asks me to come listen to what a werewolf and a shadowhunter have to say, I indulge him. Right now, you’re really making me regret that decision.”

“Okay, how about everyone tries to calm down a bit?” Luke cuts in, looking between Alec and Raphael with clear concern. “We’re here to fight Valentine, not each other.”

“Well, if Mr Shadowhunter here would just—”

“Raphael, please,” Magnus says. “Just listen to Luke, will you? And Alec, maybe you could do the same?” His fingers weave themselves together with Alec’s beneath the table, and Alec nods, focusing on cooling his head and getting himself back together.

“I’m sorry,” he says, “I don’t know what’s with me today.”

“Whatever it is, let’s try to put it on hold until we have some sort of plan, shall we?” Luke replies. “And Raphael, if you could stop pushing his buttons, that’d be very helpful.”

Raphael rolls his eyes and mutters something about hot-tempered shadowhunters who aren’t even dry behind the ears yet, _just_ loud enough that Alec can hear it.

“As I was saying earlier, I believe that our first move should be to establish secure channels of communication between the different factions of the Shadow World,” Magnus says, firmly ignoring him. “And we have to be careful. Valentine’s good at infiltrating even the most tight-knit of groups. Our lairs have been betrayed twice already, despite upgrading our wards.”

“Camille was both our biggest risk factor and our greatest security measure,” Raphael says. “She made deals with everyone, and I need to start weeding out the people who might be tempted to stay loyal to her. She’s got an apartment somewhere on the Upper East side where I know she keeps a number of fledglings that haven’t been introduced to the Clan. Unfortunately, I have very little to go on to find it.”

“I can help with that,” Luke replies. “Unless she’s paid a fortune in warlock fees to cloak the whole thing, there might be some kind of mundane paper trail. And if there isn’t, then maybe Magnus can pull some strings?”

“I’ll talk to Tessa,” Magnus agrees. “Now, about—”

Alec’s phone rings, cutting off whatever Magnus was about to say.

“It’s Izzy’s signal,” Alec says, pulling the phone from his pocket and getting to his feet. “I’m very sorry, but I have to take this. I’ll be right back.”

He picks up the call as he walks out of the dining room, heading back towards the lounge area. “Izzy, what’s up?”

“Alec, I need you,” Izzy replies. “There’s been an attack at the Institute.”

Alec stops short. “An attack?”

“Valentine created a Forsaken that went through the wards.”

Alec feels his pulse start to race, images of the destruction at the Jade Wolf flashing before his eyes. “That’s not possible. The wards defend against all downworlders.”

“Not this one. It had seelie blood with angel properties,” Izzy explains. “Alec, it went after Hodge.”

“Is he okay? Did anyone else get hurt?”

“He was alone in the training room when it happened. I got there in the middle of it and we managed to kill it together, but Alec, Hodge is badly hurt. There are three healers with him right now, but they don’t know if he’ll make it.”

“I’ll be right there,” Alec promises. “Where’s Jace?”

“Out with Clary somewhere. He said he needed to get out for a while, clear his head.”

“Okay, call him. Get him back.”

“Are you with Magnus? Do you think he could help?”

“I’ll ask and have him portal us back as soon as I can.”

“Thanks, Alec,” Izzy says. “I have to go. I have to seal off the training room and start securing the premises, or we’ll have agents from the Clave swarming in and taking over in no time at all.”

“Okay. But before you do that, I need you to send a fire message to a Lydia Branwell at the High Inquisitor’s office for me,” Alec replies, his mind spinning with things he needs to do, steps that need to be taken. “Inform her that we’ve had a breach and that I’m declaring a state of emergency and fast-forwarding the plan. She’ll know what I mean. I’ll explain everything to you as soon as I get back.”

“Okay, will do. Please hurry.”

“Already on my way,” Alec says, ending the call and hurrying back to the others.


	10. Perfect Timing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The second Forsaken attack and its aftermath.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay! I finally made it back from exam hell! \o/ 60h work weeks are not fun. Do not recommend. So happy that's over. XD
> 
> Good news! Here's ch. 10, ch 11 is about 75% done and ch 12 has been started as well, so the time between chapters for the next few should be a lot shorter than for these past two.
> 
> WARNING: minor character death (off screen) in this chapter. Sorry about that. /o\

“I have to go,” Alec says as soon as he’s back at the table. “Valentine sent a forsaken to the Institute. Izzy thinks he used seelie blood when creating them to bypass our wards.” 

“Is Clary okay?” Luke asks immediately. Simon’s head snaps around as well, looking up at Alec with worry written all over his face.

“Clary’s fine,” Alec replies. “She’s out with Jace somewhere. I’m sorry to cut this short, but I have to get back to the Institute as soon as possible.”

He turns to Magnus next. “Will you come with me? One of our shadowhunters was hurt in the attack; without magical help, he might not make it.”

“Yeah, of course,” Magnus replies, already halfway out of his chair. “Here, let me just—” He snaps his fingers, making their bill appear on a platter in front of him.

“I should have seen this coming,” Alec says, pacing back and forth while Magnus does something to the bill with his magic. “After he sent the first one after you, Luke, I should have realised—Magnus told me the wards weren’t what they should be. I should have taken it more seriously. I should have—”

“Hang on,” Luke cuts in. “Who did it go after, exactly? I thought you said your parents went back to Idris?”

“Yeah, they did. But Hodge can’t leave, so of course Valentine knew exactly where to find him, and I—” He pulls his hand through his hair in frustration, but stops halfway.

Magnus and Raphael have gone absolutely still.

“Hodge?” Raphael says, his voice barely louder than a whisper, but still somehow carrying perfectly across the space. “Starkweather?”

“Yeah?”

Raphael turns towards Magnus, and Alec sees them share a long look, sees Magnus press his lips tightly together and Raphael give him the smallest shakes of his head.

“What’s going on?” Alec asks carefully, and then, when he doesn’t get an answer, “Magnus? Everything okay?”

Magnus holds up a hand to quiet him, his eyes still locked with Raphael’s.

Alec presses his lips together and takes a small step back, clasping his hands behind his back to keep them from moving restlessly as he waits. His mind, meanwhile, is running a mile a minute, counting each second that’s passed since Izzy’s call. The idea of Hodge lying on a table, fighting for his life while Alec is just _standing here_ without being able to do anything to help is maddening.

After what feels like forever, Magnus breaks away from the silent discussion he and Raphael seem to have going on and turns towards Alec.

“Tell me about him? The Hodge Starkweather you know—what kind of man is he?”

“What? What’s that to do with—Magnus, there’s no time,” Alec replies, the simmering worry inside of him beginning to rise towards panic. “He’s dying. _Right now_. We need to go.”

“I can’t,” Magnus says, and Alec sees him share another loaded look with Raphael. “Not until I know that—He did horrible things, Alec. During the Uprising. He—” He breaks off, turning his head away.

“What Magnus is trying to tell you is that he can’t help with this,” Raphael cuts in, leaning back in his chair and reaching for his wine glass. “Starkweather’s finally kicking the bucket? Good riddance, I say.”

Alec stares back at him in shock. And then the words register fully, and fear washes over him.

“Magnus, please,” he tries. “I realise Hodge was on Valentine’s side before, but it was a long time ago now. And he’s been a prisoner for almost twenty years. He’s changed. And paid for his crimes.”

“Like hell he did!” Raphael throws back. “He got himself a settlement for a cushy job at one of the top American institutes, conveniently out of reach for anyone who might want to settle a score. Clave justice at its finest.”

“He can’t even go outside,” Alec argues. “He hasn’t seen the sun properly in twenty years. You, if anyone, should know what that’s like.”

“Oh, cry me a river,” Raphael replies. “Do you really think I’ll feel sorry for a shadowhunter in his self-imposed little pity party? Think again.”

“I’m just saying that—”

“And you’re being a pain in the ass doing it!”

“A lot of people died in the Uprising, Raphael,” Luke interrupts from the other side of the table. “Stupid, cruel, unnecessary deaths. I know you’re angry, but letting more people die won’t bring them back.”

“How about you stay out of this?” Raphael snaps back at him. “You were barely even a downworlder then; you don’t know what it was like.”

“I know enough. We were all young and naïve to trust Valentine blindly like we did. And Hodge was one of the youngest. He—”

“He killed a ten-year-old girl in cold blood!” Raphael hisses, and Alec watches as shock fills Luke’s face.

“Let me guess, not part of the official story?” Raphael continues. “I can go on about crimes committed by the Circle for hours. Why don’t we start with you, even? Which unlucky werewolf were you on the hunt for when Valentine turned it all around on you and stabbed you in the back?”

Luke’s face hardens. “I didn’t come here to rehash the past.”

“Well, maybe I did,” Raphael throws back. “Us vamps are so fickle and unreasonable, after all.”

A flash of blue fills the air with a loud _crack_ , making all of them jump.

“Enough,” Magnus says quietly.

Alec feels a chill run through him as Magnus turns to look at each of them. The glamour on his eyes has fallen away, the glowing yellow of his cat eyes out in full force, and the very air around him seems to crackle with contained power.

“This isn’t your decision to make, Raphael,” Magnus says. “It’s mine.”

He turns to Alec and blinks, his eyes back to their regular dark brown. “You’re sure he’s no longer loyal to Valentine?”

“Yes,” Alec says immediately. “Magnus, he practically raised me. I _know_ him.”

Magnus swallows and then gives a curt nod. “Let’s go then.”

“So this is how it’s going to be?” Raphael tries, getting out of his chair and getting in front of Magnus with unnatural speed. “He’ll bat his pretty eyes at you and you’ll rush off to save the people who’ve gleefully murdered your own kind?”

Magnus’ eyes flash with pain and anger, and then, to Alec’s surprise, he reaches behind his neck and unclasps one of his many necklaces.

Alec doesn’t see what the piece of jewellery he removes is, only the way Magnus’ hand trembles slightly as he takes Raphael’s and passes the item over. Magnus grabs the back of Raphael’s neck next, bringing him forward to press their foreheads together, telling him something that’s too quiet for Alec to overhear.

Raphael responds equally quietly and then pulls away, breaking Magnus’ hold. “You’re making a mistake.”

“Maybe,” Magnus concedes. “But Luke’s right. There have already been too many deaths, so if I can make a difference, I should at least try.”

“Fine, it’s your funeral,” Raphael grits out, his movements quick and jerky as he pulls his jacket from the back of his chair and shrugs it on. “Come on, Simon, we’re leaving.”

Alec half-expects Simon to argue, or ask a million questions about what just happened, at least, but instead, he just nods quickly and stands up, shooting a last regretful look at his half-eaten meal before following Raphael out of the room.

“You’re doing the right thing,” Luke tells Magnus as soon as the two vampires are gone. “Look, I don’t know what went down between Raphael and Hodge, but I have to believe that people can change.”

“You and Jocelyn did,” Magnus replies. “We should set up a new meeting soon, go through what we didn’t get to tonight.”

“I’ll call you,” Luke confirms. “What about Raphael?”

“He’ll come back around, I hope,” Magnus replies with a sigh. “I’ll talk to him. Now, if you’ll excuse me.”

He shrugs on his own jacket and turns to Alec. “Shall we?”

“My weapons are downstairs,” Alec replies. “I need to get them back before we leave.”

Magnus nods and leads the way through the dining room, back to the elevators, which open the instant they arrive.

“Thank you for coming with me,” Alec says, shifting his weight awkwardly from foot to foot as the small space closes around them. “I don’t know what happened, back then, but it did, and you still—so, thank you.”

Magnus looks away, and something inside Alec’s gut clenches painfully.

“I’m not doing this because you’re the one who asked me,” Magnus says, “regardless of what Raphael implied. I need you to know that.”

“Yeah, of course.”

“There’s so much you don’t know,” Magnus continues with another sigh. “Maybe it was unrealistic to bring you on board this quickly.”

“Valentine is all of our problem,” Alec argues. “I’m not interested in joining him, so I’m going to have to fight him either way, sooner or later.”

Magnus doesn’t reply. The elevator pings, doors opening to reveal the lobby.

Alec hurries out, finding his way back to the magical cloak room and letting out a quiet sigh of relief when the hatch from earlier opens to his rune, all of his weapons still inside.

Behind him, there’s a crack of magic, and when he turns around, Magnus is standing in front of an open portal, holding out his hand.

Alec takes it without hesitation, a small spark going through him as their palms connect. He closes his fingers around Magnus’, probably squeezing a bit harder than he should, and then follows him through the portal.

* * *

Alec’s expecting the flurry of activity that greets them when they arrive at the Institute. A breach like the one Izzy described dictates full lock-down procedures to be activated and all personnel vetted as soon as possible. Seeing it implemented still makes his pulse race and his whole body go automatically into combat mode, his eyes scanning their surroundings for potential threats as they pass initial security and make it into the Institute proper.

Jace is at the Command Centre, handing out orders to their more senior teams of shadowhunters, with Raj and Clary at his side. Raj’s hands are flying over the controls while Clary keeps an eye out for things that pop up on the different screens. Alec moves towards them, grabbing Jace’s arm to get his attention.

The second he makes contact, the rune on his hip begins to throb, and he can feel the worry Jace is keeping under wraps start to seep through. The irrational anger Alec’s been battling all night connects as well, flowing out of him like blood from a newly-opened wound.

Jace’s hand comes up to grab Alec’s arm in turn, his body slumping towards Alec’s in relief. Alec feels a pang of guilt, wondering which of his own emotions have been building up inside of Jace all day.

Motion at the edge of his vision makes him start to pull back. Magnus’ hand stops him, coming up to discretely rest against the outside of Alec’s leg. An invisible tendril of magic runs down Alec’s arm and then comes back to him again through the spot where Jace’s hand is holding onto him, anchoring the two of them to each other.

“Breathe,” Magnus tells them quietly. “Let the circuit run until it’s complete. Yes. Good... that’s good.”

The flood and ebb of emotion fades, leaving a sense of calm and clarity behind. Alec takes a step back, breaking the connection. He feels centred again, ready to work.

“Where’s Hodge?” he asks.

“In the infirmary with Izzy,” Jace replies, and Alec notes how he’s looking more at ease and confident as well. “We just got back, so I’ve no idea how things are going.”

“Okay, I’m taking Magnus there now. I’ll be back here to check in as soon as I can.”

“Don’t worry, we’ve got it,” Jace assures him. “Go.”

Alec does, moving quickly through the corridors with Magnus close behind him. He’s expecting the same controlled frenzy as out in Command when he pushes the doors of the infirmary open, and he can tell Magnus is as well, magic already crackling at the tips of his fingers as they rush inside.

The infirmary is completely quiet.

Alec stops short just inside the door, looking around frenetically for an explanation as to where everyone is. There should be healers working, orders being called out and followed, possibly blood, and sounds of pain, and—

“I’m sorry, Alec,” Magnus says quietly, his hand coming up to rest on Alec’s shoulder, and it’s not until then that Alec’s brain manages to makes sense of the closed black plastic bag lying on the table in the centre of the room.

He runs forward, panic rising like bile in his throat, his hands going to the top of the bag and pulling down the zipper.

Hodge’s face comes into view, a large gash across the forehead marring the otherwise too pale skin. Alec pulls the zipper down further, his brain refusing to connect the dots, even as more gashes come into view, dozens of _irazes_ drawn futilely next to them.

“No. _No!_ ”

He stumbles backward, connecting painfully with Magnus’ solid frame. Magnus pulls him in, wrapping his arms tightly around his back while Alec tries to pull air into his lungs and make his head stop spinning.

He’s reading things wrong. He has to be.

Magnus tightens his hold around him.

“He bled out internally while I was out of the room to call everyone back,” Izzy’s voice breaks through the silence. “Too much damage to the liver area and multiple cranial bleeds. There was nothing we could do.”

Alec pushes himself off of Magnus chest and blindly reaches for her, wrapping himself up in the familiar feel and smell of Izzy’s body and hair. Izzy hugs him back fiercely, and for a long moment, they just stand there together, the shaky sounds of their breathing too loud in the otherwise silent room.

“We need to go back out there,” Izzy says eventually, pulling back. “Tell… everyone. Secure the Institute, make sure we’re protected against any further attacks.”

“Let me handle some of that last part,” Magnus suggests softly, reminding both of them that he’s still in the room. “I’ll take a look at the current wards, see what holes I can patch.”

Alec manages a nod. “Thank you.”

“I’ll go get started,” Magnus says, and then he hesitates, one of his hands coming up to lightly touch Alec’s forearm.

Alec turns into the touch, closing his eyes as Magnus’ hand moves along his arm, across his shoulder and up to cup the side of his face. The touch is like a question asked—barely even making contact—so Alec tilts his head a fraction and leans into it, feeling the warmth of Magnus’ skin seep into his cheek.

Magnus doesn’t say anything else, just keeps his hand on Alec’s face for a minute before letting it fall. Alec catches it in his own before Magnus can move away, squeezing it once in silent thanks.

Magnus gives him a small smile and then leaves the room. Alec keeps looking after him until the doors to the infirmary swing closed, and then lets out a breath he wasn’t aware he was holding.

“I like him,” Izzy says, moving back into Alec’s field of vision. “He clearly cares about you.”

“We’ve only been on one date.”

“You’ve also spent the night at his place two nights in a row,” Izzy points out. She pauses, a guarded expression settling on her face. “I talked to Jace, earlier. He told me what’s been going on.”

Alec keeps his eyes looking firmly straight ahead. “I didn’t mean to lie to you. I just—I didn’t know myself.”

“I figured that was the reason,” Izzy replies. “It’s just a little weird, is all.”

“It’s more than weird,” Alec says with a sigh, turning back towards her. “Izzy, I don’t know what to do. It’s like… I wanted that for so long—what Cat claims we had—and now that I know I had it, it’s just… I can’t even picture it anymore. It comes out all… _wrong_ in my head somehow.”

Izzy nods. “I have a confession to make.”

“What is it?”

“Back a few nights ago, when we met Magnus? One of the reasons why I gave him your number was that, after the whole Memory Demon thing went down, I was hoping he’d distract you from thinking about Jace and stop you from doing anything stupid.”

Alec feels his eyes widen. “You knew?”

“I suspected,” Izzy replies. “I always felt like there was something between you and Jace that neither of you were telling me about. But I tried not to think about it, because I… was hoping I was wrong, I guess.”

“Yeah, well, now everything’s all messed up,” Alec sighs. “It was _so awkward_ this morning. The whole talk thing, and then working together. Our _parabatai_ bond, it’s been so weak today, I’ve barely felt it. It’s been like a ghost. Like he’s… shutting me out, somehow.”

“Maybe that’s a good thing, though? I mean, you know I love you. And I’ll always be on your side. Both of your sides. But Alec, you’re _parabatai_. Jace is our _brother_.”

“Don’t you think I know that?” Alec exclaims. “I _know_ it’s wrong. Why do you think I’ve been fighting so hard against it?”

“Alec…”

“You know what really gets to me?” Alec asks, swallowing hard against the tight feeling growing in his chest and throat. “That it was all for nothing. Pushing everything down, pretending it didn’t exist, being scared shitless that I’d give something away—it was _all for nothing_ , because I already gave into it. Over and over, for _months_ , apparently. And, like, that used to be my only consolation, that yeah, maybe I couldn’t choose how to feel, but I _could_ choose not to act on it. But now it turns out I _did_. So what kind of person does that make me?”

“It makes you a _person_ ,” Izzy replies fervently. “Alec, we all make mistakes, especially when love’s involved. I’m not saying that what happened between you and Jace was right, or that I understand it, even, but it doesn’t make you a bad person.”

Alec shakes his head, trying to think of a way to make her understand what he’s really saying. There’s a burning sensation behind his eyelids when he closes them, and he pushes the feeling back down, taking long, shaky breaths until he feels himself somewhat back in control.

“What if I do it again?” he asks quietly, a wave of shame flowing through him, making it impossible for him to look back up and meeting Izzy’s eyes. “Like, what if we get the memories back and all these feelings come back with them? What if it starts all over again?”

Izzy doesn’t reply for a really long time.

“I think you’re both older now,” she says eventually. “And I think you’ve both moved on. Alec, just think about it—I don’t know if you realise it, but when you and Magnus are in the same room together, your entire focus turns to him, no matter what else is going on. And you’ve only known him five days.”

Alec swallows again, trying desperately to contain the spark of hope Izzy’s words set off inside him. “Yeah, but. What if that’s just… you know, physical?”

“Maybe it is, and maybe it isn’t,” Izzy says simply. “It’s one of the things you find out when you start seeing someone. Initial interest either deepens or it doesn’t. Both ways are equally real.”

“I think Magnus wants more than that,” Alec says. “Like, at first, it was just—our first date was just _fun_ , you know? Really hot, and straight-forward, and if you guys hadn’t interrupted us, we’d definitely have… you know.” He feels the back of his neck grow hot as he thinks back on it, remembering the simple, driving need of feeling Magnus pressed up tightly against him.

“If he does, then it’s his choice whether or not to take the risk that you might not end up feeling the same,” Izzy replies, reaching out to put an arm around his back and give him a half-hug. “My point is, I don’t think you’d react to him the way I can clearly see that you are if you had deeper feelings for someone else. Even if you don’t remember them. I just don’t think it’s in your nature.”

The hope in Alec’s chest grows brighter. He pulls Izzy in fully, letting the comforting warmth of her hug ease some of the lingering panic inside him.

“Thank you.”

“Any time,” Izzy says, and then reaches up and flicks his nose.

Alec lets out a surprised laugh and steps to the side, dodging Izzy’s hand when she reaches out to flick him again. As he twists, he catches sight of Hodge’s covered body on the table; the feeling of wanting to be sick returns in full force.

“How did it happen?” he asks, pushing down the wave of anger and helplessness that rises inside him.

Izzy follows his gaze over to the body bag and her smile falls. “He was in the training room; the forsaken came in through one of the hidden emergency exits. The timing was perfect, right after the main shift started and everyone left on their missions.”

“And then?”

“I was in the lab going through the blood work for the one that attacked Luke,” Izzy says. “I noticed the angel blood and realised what it meant. I was too late. When I got there, Hodge was on the floor, and there was blood everywhere. The forsaken was pretty banged up as well, so I grabbed a blade and finished it off. The whole room is trashed; he didn’t go down easy.”

“I should have been there. I was scheduled for admin work tonight. And my office is right next to the training room. I would have heard the attack and been able to intervene sooner.”

“You can’t blame yourself,” Izzy says. “I was supposed to be there as well. Clary and I had weapons training scheduled for tonight. But then the autopsy ran long, and there were so many samples to analyse, so I told her to take the night off and go out with Jace instead.”

“Valentine got lucky,” Alec states, turning his face away. “If the attack had been on any other night, he probably would have failed.”

Izzy doesn’t reply, and Alec feels her stiffen next to him.

“What?”

“Can we be sure it was really luck, though?” Izzy asks, a slight edge to her voice. “I don’t know. The timing was kind of… too perfect, don’t you think?”

The words connect like a trickle of ice-cold water running down Alec’s spine. “Who knew about you cancelling training with Clary?”

“I’m not sure. We were discussing it in the hallway, and there were people walking past. But I didn’t notice anyone acting strangely. What about you?”

“I only told you and Jace. I didn’t even change my calendar. Someone might have seen me head out, but it’s a very small window of opportunity.”

“Okay, then maybe it really was luck,” Izzy says, a note of relief in her voice.

A small frown on her face and the way she presses her lips together tells Alec that she’s not as convinced of that statement as she’d like to be.

He shifts his weight from one foot to the other, gravitating a little closer to her. “What are you not telling me?”

Izzy presses her lips more firmly together. “It’s probably nothing.”

“But it might be something?”

“It’s just—He told me something—Hodge, I mean—after we rushed him to the infirmary and the healers got to work. He said he was sorry. And that…” She trails off, a slight frown appearing on her face.

“And what?”

“ _Use the ring_ ,” Izzy replies. “At least I think that’s what he said. I don’t know what that—did you ever hear him talk about a ring?”

“Not that I can remember,” Alec says. “That’s a weird thing to say.”

“Yeah,” Izzy agrees. She looks back at Hodge’s body, lets out an unsteady breath and then squares her shoulders. “Come on, let’s secure the Institute.”

She puts a hand at the small of Alec’s back and guides him forward, towards the double doors leading out into the hallway.

Alec looks behind him one last time and then follows her lead.


	11. Progression

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Clave makes a decision about the Institute, Lydia returns, and Alec and Magnus grow closer together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I just found out that I failed the first of my exams. Super bummed out about that. Ergo fic, in an attempt to cheer myself up a bit. It has Magnus and Alec taking a long bath. Apparently intimacy is my go-to picker-upper. XD
> 
> Anyway, hope you enjoy. Please consider leaving me a kudos and/or comment if you enjoy the chapter. I could really use the positive feedback today. <3

They’re almost back in the Command Centre when Clary comes running towards them.

“Alec, a group of people just portalled in from Idris to see you,” she says, her wide eyes telling Alec that whoever appeared doesn’t look too friendly. “The woman leading them says she’s from the Clave.”

“Already?” Izzy exclaims, looking up at Alec with disbelief in her eyes. “Wow, they really don’t waste any time, do they?”

“We’ve had a breach, and it’ll only get worse when it’s official that it had a deadly outcome,” Alec replies. “Clary, did you get a name?”

“Yeah, Lydia something,” Clary says. “Wait. Deadly outcome?”

“Hodge didn’t make it,” Izzy confirms. Then she turns back to Alec. “Lydia as in the Lydia Branwell you had me send a message to?”

“I’m assuming so,” Alec replies. “Last time I checked, she didn’t have her own task force, though.”

“So who is she?”

“She works for High Inquisitor Herondale. I’ve negotiated a deal for some extra resources for the Institute through her. Things we need to help us find Jocelyn.”

Clary’s eyes widen even further. “You’re helping me find my mom?”

“It’s our best way forward to find Valentine,” Alec tells her. “Don’t make a big deal out of it.”

“Was that what you were talking about this morning, at Magnus’?” Izzy asks him quietly as they start walking again, Clary hurrying along a few steps ahead of them. “When you said you needed to talk to me later.”

“Yeah,” Alec replies, keeping his own voice down as well. “I’m trying to get you access to the Seelie Court, to investigate the missing spies.”

Izzy stops in her tracks.

“Alec. That’s—No shadowhunter is allowed to seek an audience at the court without full diplomatic privileges.”

“That’s right,” Alec answers, feeling a smile grow at the corner of his mouth as the expression of shock grows on Izzy’s face.

“Why me? Shouldn’t you be picking someone with more experience? I mean, I don’t even have Clave seniority.”

“You’re my top negotiator,” Alec tells her, repeating what he told Lydia. “And you know the seelies. You’re liked by them. If anyone can get the Queen to talk, it’s you.” 

In reply, Izzy throws her arms around his neck, making Alec lose his balance for a moment.

“I won’t disappoint you,” Izzy promises, hugging him hard.

Alec hugs her back. “I know you won’t. I wish I could promise you the same thing.”

“Oh, shut up,” Izzy says, slapping him lightly on the arm. “Come on, let’s go jump through whatever hoops the Clave wants to set up for us and get it over with.”

Alec rolls his eyes and squares his shoulders, clasping his hands behind his back as they move forward again. “Keep Clary in the background,” he tells her quietly. “I want Lydia to pay as little attention to her as possible.”

“Okay,” Izzy confirms. She lengthens her stride, moving quickly through the corridor, and Alec sees her catch up with Clary and pull her aside right as they reach the Command Centre. 

Alec takes a deep breath and mentally centers himself before walking right up to the platform where Jace is waiting for him with Lydia and half a dozen of the Clave’s professional militia. 

“Welcome to the New York Institute,” Alec says, holding out his hand for her to shake as soon as he reaches them. “As you can see, we’re in the middle of following through with the set breach protocol.”

“Yes, Jace has already gone through the main points with me,” Lydia replies. “I noticed coming in that you already have a warlock on site working on the wards as well. Good thinking.”

“Magnus Bane was gracious enough to accept the contract on rush order,” Alec improvises, doing his best to keep his face neutral. “Our number one priority is to make sure there are no further attacks.”

Lydia’s eyes light up at the mention of Magnus’ name, and Alec wonders why as he mentally files away the information. A moment later, her expression is back to being coolly professional, her eyes scanning the different tasks being carried out around the room.

“Good,” she says. “In the meantime, there are a few things I need to discuss with you in private. Your office?”

“Of course,” Alec replies. While Lydia turns around to give instructions to the group that came with her, Jace moves in close and beckons his attention.

“You know what’s going on?”

“I’ve got a pretty good idea,” Alec replies quietly. “Stay here and hold the fort until I’m back?”

“You’ve got it,” Jace says. “How’s Hodge? He doing okay?”

Alec lowers his eyes and shakes his head slightly. When he looks back up, Jace’s expression is one of shock. Alec reaches out to put a hand on his shoulder but hesitates at the last minute, his hand stopping in mid-air, just inches away from impact.

Jace’s eyes flash with pain, and it’s part instinct, part habit for Alec to close the last bit of distance. He pulls in a sharp breath when the connection between then immediately flares up again; he can feel Jace’s grief build through the bond, pulling at the same emotion inside of Alec, and while it hurts, it’s also grounding—as though the weight of what they feel becomes slightly less suffocating when carried together.

“I’m going to kill Valentine,” Jace tells him under his breath, and the anger Alec sees in his eyes gives him no doubt that Jace means it.

Alec nods in agreement, and for a moment, everything is simple again, the steady heartbeat of his _parabatai_ matching his own, the bond solid and present underneath his skin, sharpening Alec’s focus down to a single point.

The moment breaks a second later, when Lydia finishes handing out orders to her group and comes to stand next to Alec.

“Ready when you are.”

Alec lets his hand fall away from Jace’s shoulder and holds it out in front of him instead, indicating the direction of his office. “After you.”

* * *

“Let me get straight to the point,” Lydia says, as Alec closes the door to his office behind them. “The Clave is appointing you Head of the New York Institute, on two conditions: that you play an important role in the elimination or arrest of Valentine Morgenstern, and that you deliver the Mortal Cup to us.”

Alec takes care to keep his face neutral as he processes the information. The agreement sounds simple enough, but he very much doubts that that’s all it is. From what he knows of Clave politics, it’s likely that they intend to use the time they think it will take Alec and his team to produce the Cup as an excuse to put him under supervision—to make sure that his future leadership of the Institute won’t be as unorthodox as the way he’s being appointed to it. He’s almost tempted to call Clary into the office, get the tarot card from the personal safe he moved it to and have her produce the Cup to Lydia, just to call Herondale’s bluff.

Instead, he nods. “Is there a time limit?”

“Thirty days,” Lydia replies, having the decency to at least look apologetic when she delivers the news. You get to pick your own co-Head, if that’s any consolation? I’ve already filled in Mr Wayland’s name on the forms.”

“Jace?” Alec echoes, his pulse starting to race. “We’re not—um. I mean—”

“He’s your _parabatai_ , so I just assumed—?” Lydia says, breaking off with a frown. “But if you’d rather pick Isabelle, I can check if—” 

“No, no, Jace will be fine,” Alec says, a bit too quickly. “I’m sorry, it’s just—a lot of things happening in one night.” 

“Don’t worry about it,” Lydia replies. “I’ll be the Clave envoy for the transition, by the way, so we should set up a daily schedule for progress reports and debriefings.”

It’s Alec’s turn to frown. “I thought you were only a junior official?”

“I’m also the one who finally brought Camille Belcourt to justice,” Lydia replies, grinning. “I’ve been promoted to senior prosecutor, and will be reporting directly to High Inquisitor Herondale from now on.”

“Congratulations,” Alec replies, wincing to himself when it comes out slightly flat. His mind is spinning, trying to list and weigh the pros and cons of the arrangement. There’s no doubt a connection to someone like Lydia could help him cut through a whole lot of red tape with the Clave and thereby vastly simplify parts of his job, but at the same time, she’s an unknown entity, and the High Inquisitor’s office isn’t exactly known for its progressive stance on things.

“Look at it from the bright side, at least they’re not asking you to marry me,” Lydia says, rolling her eyes. “I’m not denying that this assignment is a nice step up for me, but I could also completely tank my career if things don’t turn out the way the Clave hopes they will. So go find Jocelyn Fairchild, get the Cup, and I’ll be out of your hair, okay?”

Alec forces himself to nod again. “Of course. Why don’t we go and make the necessary announcements, and then Izzy can fill you in on what we know so far about the forsaken?”

“Sounds good,” Lydia says. “We should check in with Magnus Bane on the progress being made on the wards before I leave as well, make sure the Institute is properly protected.”

She pauses for a moment, an almost giddy expression blooming on her face. “I actually can’t wait to meet him. Did you know that my great ancestor Henry Branwell—who was the last of the Branwells to run an institute—and Magnus Bane invented the portal together?”

“No,” Alec replies simply, his mind running a mile a minute trying to figure out whether Lydia’s enthusiasm is a good thing or not. “But I’m not surprised. He’s very... good at what he does.”

Lydia frowns. “Do you know him well?”

“Just a little,” Alec replies, forcing down the blush he can feel threatening to grow up the back of his neck. He reaches out and puts a hand at the small of Lydia’s back, gently guiding her back towards the door of his office. “Let’s go inform everyone of the change in leadership, shall we?”

* * *

Announcements go well, all things considered. The other members of the Institute are clearly shocked to see Maryse and Robert officially replaced, and since Alec figures none of them—or at least only very, very few—even know about his parents’ former connection to the Circle, their reaction does not surprise him. The obvious excitement shown at his own appointment more than makes up for it, however, and Alec feels warm inside as he looks into the eyes of what are now fully _his_ people.

“I need to continue with breach protocol and debrief key personnel, and then get started on paperwork so that the Clave can get their report on time,” he tells Lydia, as the crowd starts to disperse and go back to their jobs. “So if you’ll excuse me? I’ll have Izzy fill you in on whatever else you need before you go back to Idris.”

Lydia takes the brush off graciously enough, and Alec mentally crosses his fingers that she’s attributing it to him being oblivious and stressed, rather than simply wanting to get her out of his hair. “Of course, I’ll let you get back to work,” she replies, holding out a hand which Alec is all too happy to shake. “Good luck, Alec. I’m sure you’ll do well.”

“Thank you,” Alec replies, not at all sure it’ll be the case. “I’ll be in touch.”

He calls Izzy over and formally introduces Lydia, feeling a pang of gratitude to have someone with his sister’s brains and intuition on his team as Izzy immediately grasps the delicacy of the situation and puts her best Clave-friendly game face on. Alec watches her smoothly draw Lydia’s attention towards the surveillance cameras as they walk out of the room—neatly avoiding them crossing paths with Clary—and feels a little more tension seep out of his shoulders.

“Okay, so would you mind filling us in on what that was all about?” Jace asks, walking up to Alec with Clary at his heels as soon as Izzy and Lydia are out of sight.

Alec quickly looks around to make sure no one else is close enough to be listening in and beckons for them to move closer.

“We have thirty days to catch Valentine and deliver him and the Mortal Cup to the Clave,” he tells them quietly. “The Cup is what they really want, so they absolutely can’t know about Clary’s powers. Understood?” 

“I don’t even know what powers you’re talking about,” Clary says, sharing a quick conspiratorial look with Jace. “I was just thrown into this world. I have no clue about anything.”

“That last part is still frighteningly true,” Alec replies, rolling his eyes when Clary turns back and glares at him. “Jace, make sure she keeps out of trouble. And that goes for you too. We’re running this Institute on a trial basis; Lydia is going to be watching us like a hawk, and she’s reporting straight back to the Clave. So we do things together, or not at all, agreed?”

Clary opens her mouth, no doubt to argue, and then closes it again, crossing her arms over her chest. “You’re really planning on helping me find my mom?”

“I’m planning on rescuing a fellow shadowhunter and hopefully help bring down Valentine and the Circle with the information I’m able to get from her, yes,” Alec replies. “Now, Izzy is keeping Lydia distracted for the moment, so we should—”

“How do I know I can trust you?” Clary interrupts him.

Alec grits his teeth in frustration. “We don’t have time for this.”

“Too bad for you, because it’s kind of important to me if I’m going to be putting my mom’s fate in your hands,” Clary shoots back.

“Hey, you trust me, right?” Jace cuts in, drawing Clary’s attention by placing a hand on her shoulder.

Clary looks up at him, and then, after a moment’s hesitation, nods.

“Well, then you can trust Alec,” Jace tells her. “We’d never betray each other. Ever.” He turns his attention to Alec as he says the last part, and despite the confidence in his voice, Alec can sense uncertainty carrying over from Jace through the bond.

“Hey,” he says, motioning for Jace to move with him a few paces to the side and turning his back to Clary, giving them at least the illusion of privacy. “I trust you, _parabatai_. Don’t ever doubt me, no matter what I said, or… you know, with everything else that’s been… going on.”

Jace visibly swallows and then nods, looking up to meet Alec’s eyes. “What do you need me to do?”

“Finish up with the surveillance footage with Raj and then start on interviews while I handle the Clave,” Alec replies. “Prio one tonight is to secure the Institute; we’ll get the full team together in the morning to discuss next steps.”

“Okay,” Jace says. He raises his right hand, holding it up between them. “I’ll see you in the morning, then.”

“In the morning,” Alec echoes, taking Jace’s hand in confirmation. This time, when the bond connects, it makes Alec feel weirdly nostalgic, somehow, like there’s an aching sweetness there, hidden beneath the surface, that wants to be remembered.

He quickly pulls his hand back, breaking the connection. “Right. So, back to work?”

“Yeah, definitely,” Jace replies, and it’s a relief to Alec to see that he, too, looks decidedly uncomfortable. 

Jace gives him a curt nod and then turns and walks back to Clary, putting an arm around her shoulders and leading her from the room.

* * *

It’s almost three in the morning when Alec arrives in front of Magnus’ building and presses the buzzer to be let inside. He’s exhausted, both from running operations and making sure Lydia didn’t hear or see anything she wasn’t supposed to, and all he wants is to lie down on a flat surface and just not think for a while.

Magnus meets him at the door, opening it wide to let Alec inside. “I wasn’t sure you’d make it.”

“Me neither,” Alec admits, reaching out to wrap his hand around Magnus’ waist, asking without words for him to come closer.

Magnus moves into the touch, and Alec slumps against him, letting out a shaky breath he didn’t know he was holding as Magnus’ arms go around his back. His entire body is aching after the day he’s had, and his brain feels like it’s been filled to the brink with information at least twice over.

Magnus doesn’t say anything, just tilts his head so that his face comes to rest against Alec’s throat, and Alec lets himself melt into the warmth of Magnus’ body, trusting Magnus’ strength to keep both of them upright.

“I was going to take a bath,” Magnus murmurs against his jaw after they’ve been standing in the hallway together for a long time. “Why don’t you join me? It’ll help you relax.”

Alec feels a tug at the corner of his lips, and then a short, surprised laugh breaks from his throat. “I thought we were supposed to cool things off for a while?”

Magnus’ lips brush against his throat, leaving tickling trails of warmth in their wake. “I know. I just—it’s been a rough couple of days. For both of us. Right now, I just want to sink into hot water with you and wash it all off.”

Alec feels a pang in his chest, like his heart is suddenly bigger and more heavy than it was just moments ago. Everything inside of him feels coiled too tight, like he might break at any moment.

He’s so tired. Of staying strong, of being the person in charge, of keeping it together—he doesn’t even know anymore. 

“Yeah. Yeah, that sounds… good,” he hears himself say, and a tiny fraction of the tension inside of him releases as Magnus simply smiles and takes his hand, leading him through the loft and into the master bathroom. 

The room looks different from when Alec last saw it. Bigger, for one thing, covered in tiny mosaic tiles that form an underwater landscape on the walls and floor. Magnus walks them over where a small, sunken pool has appeared next to full-length windows providing a perfect view of the New York skyline. Magnus lets go of his hand and goes to turn on the taps, picking little bottles from a nearby shelf and pouring their contents into the water.

The pool fills suspiciously quickly, thick, fragrant bubbles forming on top of the steaming water. Alec just watches, mesmerised, as Magnus waves his hands and wills dozens of lit candles into existence, muting the light in the room to a soft, golden, glow. Once the pool is filled to the brim, Magnus leans over and checks the temperature, and then starts removing his many pieces of jewellery.

Alec watches quietly as the necklaces are taken off, and then the rings, bracelets and, lastly, the silver cuff Magnus keeps on his ear. The makeup goes next, and then the highlights in his hair; with all of it gone, the clothes feels almost like an afterthought, and it doesn’t dawn on Alec that Magnus is getting naked in front of him until he reaches down to step out of his pants and remove his socks.

He keeps watching as Magnus straightens back up and moves in closer.

“May I?” Magnus asks, his hands coming to rest at the top button of Alec’s shirt. Alec manages a nod, and Magnus’ hands go to work, opening the row of buttons almost torturously slowly. Alec lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding when the the last button slips out of its buttonhole and Magnus’ hands move up to his shoulders, going beneath the fabric to push the shirt off.

Magnus strokes his hands down his arms, to the back of Alec’s hands and then up again. Alec catches one of them as they pass over his chest, holds it against his hammering heart, hoping it will tell Magnus what he can’t seem to find words to express.

Magnus closes his eyes and reaches for Alec’s other hand in reply, mirroring the movement. Magnus’ heart is beating just as fast as Alec’s own, and the simple gesture—the honesty and vulnerability of it—takes what little is left of Alec’s breath away.

They stand together for a long time, until a draft from the still open bathroom door sweeps by and makes both of them shiver.

“Come on, let’s get into the water,” Magnus says at last, waving his hand to remove the rest of Alec’s clothes and put them into a folded pile on a nearby stool. Alec follows him into the pool, splashing water over the side in his haste to get himself covered beneath the thick layer of foam. Magnus doesn’t comment, which Alec appreciates, and instead simply lowers himself into the water and leans his head back to rest against the edge, closing his eyes and sighing in obvious pleasure.

“How do we—?” Alec asks, sinking down to his knees in the middle of the pool and pulling more suds of thick foam towards himself. “I mean, should I—which way should my head go?”

“Whichever way you want is fine,” Magnus answers, and Alec can’t help but smile at the way the warm water seems to already be relaxing the lines of Magnus’ face. “If you come and cuddle up on my lap, keeping our hands off each other might get difficult though.”

“Yeah, I—over this way is good.”

He moves backwards until he, too, can lean his head back against the edge of the pool and then carefully stretches out his legs. He’s still painfully aware of the fact that he’s naked—that Magnus is equally naked, just feet away—but the temperature of the water is perfect: just on the right side of too hot, in a way that seeps into and soothes the tension in every one of his muscles. And slowly but surely, Alec finds himself begin to relax.

He lets out a contented sigh and looks up at the ceiling, idly wondering whether the the painted gold vines that climb across it were always there or if it’s something that Magnus added when he created the bath. The water swirls around him in gentle streams, and Alec feels himself grow heavy, tiredness and lack of sleep catching up with him and pulling him down.

“Do you mind if I put on some music?” Magnus asks. “My head’s a bit too loud on its own at the moment.”

“Yeah, sure.”

Magnus lifts a hand out of the water and sends off a blue spark, and something pretty and bell-like starts to play from nowhere in particular.

“Another one of my warlocks died tonight,” Magnus tells him suddenly, his voice rougher than Alec’s used to hearing it. “Lily Sparrow. She was one of the ones hurt when our last lair was attacked. Only a few decades old but really powerful for her age. I thought she’d make it but… Cat sent me a fire message right after I got back from the Institute earlier.”

“Magnus, I’m sorry,” Alec says, his chest clenching painfully.

Magnus nods jerkily, his eyes closed. “You’d think it gets easier the longer you live. But it really doesn’t.”

“No,” Alec agrees, swallowing thickly as he feels his throat tighten. He’s managed to push back thoughts about Hodge’s death all night, keeping his focus on everything that needs to get done, but now, it all comes back to him, images of Hodge’s body encased in plastic threatening to overwhelm him.

“Will you tell me—what Raphael said at dinner, about Hodge. Was it true?” 

Even just asking the question hurts, but Alec finds that he needs to know. 

“I’m not sure I can talk about it,” Magnus replies, and the tone in his voice makes the pain in Alec’s chest grow a little sharper. “Both because a lot of it is not my story to tell, and… because I really don’t feel like being rational and objective when it comes to Circle members right now.”

There’s anger in his voice, tightly reined in and pushed under the surface, but clearly there. Alec has no idea how to handle it—doesn’t know if there even is something he could say or do to make things better.

“Do you want me to leave?” he blurts, shocking himself with how unsteady his voice sounds.

Magnus raises his head, his face unreadable as he runs his eyes from Alec’s face to his neck, stopping on the deflect rune for a long time, before he closes them with a sigh. When they open again, his eyes are a mess of conflicting emotion, and Alec’s own pain and confusion surges up to the surface, Magnus’ grief pulling at them like a magnet.

He doesn’t know who moves forward first. Water splashes over the sides of the pool as they crash into each other, mouths meeting in a too-hard kiss that somehow feels exactly like what Alec needs right then. It’s a clash of mouths more than anything, angry rather than passionate as they both let their pent up frustrations spill over into the space between them. 

Magnus’ lips are harsh and demanding on his, effectively blocking out the turmoil in Alec’s mind and the crushing sense of helplessness that’s pressing down on his chest. He wraps his arms around Magnus’ back gratefully, pulling him closer until they’re kneeling together in the middle of the pool, touching everywhere from their thighs to their chests.

His head is spinning; the warm water surrounding him has nothing on the heat of Magnus’ skin, the way it’s soaking into Alec’s and threatening to make him come apart at the seams. A tremor goes through Magnus’ body, and Alec tightens his hold as he tastes a hint of salt between their lips. Magnus breaks the kiss and buries his head against Alec’s neck, his shoulders starting to shake.

Alec holds on tighter, clinging to the last of his composure as Magnus breaks down in his arms. A different kind of helplessness rises inside him, and his own eyes begin to sting as he whispers stupid reassurances against Magnus’ hair. Things are not okay—nothing feels like it is, right now—but he keeps repeating the words all the same, futilely trying to make them come true. 

He’s caught off guard when Magnus’ hands grab the outside of his thighs, pulling Alec into his lap and making both of them lose their balance. They go under the surface, still clinging to each other, and Alec gasps and coughs as they come up again, letting go of Magnus’ back to wipe water and foam off both their faces.

Magnus swears under his breath, spluttering and wiping at his eyes, and a crack and flash of blue light later, the bubbles are all gone, leaving only clear water between them. He moves Alec with him and leans them back against the edge of the pool, his hands sliding down to Alec’s hips before leaning in to kiss him again, the initial desperation between them quickly deepening into a different kind of hunger. 

Alec can feel himself grow hard, his hips starting to move against Magnus’ of their own accord. Magnus’ hands stroke their way around his hips to his ass, and Alec groans into their kiss, breaking away to pant against the side of Magnus’ neck as he pushes back into the touch.

He feels raw and imbalanced, but also strangely in control. Magnus moans beneath him when Alec moves his hips again, and his mouth chases Alec’s, capturing Alec’s lips with his for a kiss that burns through both of them.

The need for something more flares up inside Alec, making him yearn to feel Magnus inside of him, beneath his skin, in his lungs, held close against his heart. He starts reaching for Magnus’ hands, then remembers and stops himself. The need to be _closer_ is making his head spin; Magnus’ magic is so near the surface that Alec can feel a shadow of it brushing against his skin.

“Can we—” he starts, his hands making another aborted movement towards Magnus’, “—more? Can we do _more_?”

Magnus’ hands tighten their grip, and Alec’s heart misses a beat as the flame of every candle in the room flares. 

“I don’t think—my magic’s—God, you’re just so—” Magnus breaks off and pulls Alec in for another kiss.

“You make me want to forget about everything and just—let go and _pour_ my magic into you,” Magnus whispers into his ear when they break apart for air. 

“You can,” Alec replies immediately, drawing another desperate groan from Magnus. “Magnus, I want you to.”

“ _No_ ,” Magnus insists, a definite hitch in his breathing before he manages to get the word out. His body tenses, as though he’s bracing himself for what he’s about to say next. “You don’t—It’s dangerous, Alec, for both of us. If we did that and something were to happen to you, I...”

Alec takes Magnus’ face in his hands, bringing him in for another kiss, pushing aside the sting of disappointment that hits him in favour of soothing the tension back out of Magnus’ shoulders. Magnus’ breath hitches again, this time in what sounds like surprise, and his entire body melts into Alec’s.

Alec breaks the kiss and presses their foreheads together, taking a couple of deep breaths to steady himself. He reaches down and finds Magnus’ hand, moving it a few inches, hoping Magnus gets the hint. “What about—? 

Magnus lets out another low moan and then nods jerkily in reply. His other arm goes around Alec’s back, pressing them impossibly close together. He takes Alec’s mouth in another bruising kiss as his fingers move further down, and Alec braces himself for the initial pain.

Instead, there’s a warm, tingling feeling starting at the end of his tailbone and spreading all the way up his spine. Alec breaks the kiss and drops his head down on Magnus’ shoulder, gasping as a single finger dips carefully inside him, hot and unnaturally slick, with nothing of the rough bluntness Alec was expecting. Magnus’ arm is like a vice around him, and his breaths come in shaky bursts against Alec’s ear, but his hand is still steady as he works in a second finger alongside the first one, sending slow waves of pure pleasure licking across Alec’s skin.

Alec reaches down between them, wrapping his hand around Magnus’ cock, making both of them groan. He tries to lift himself up, shifting his weight forward to properly sit on Magnus’ lap, but Magnus blocks him and pushes him back down, his fingers inside Alec quickening their pace.

“I want to—” Alec manages, tilting his hips again and feeling a shock of pleasure run all the way up his spine from the new angle it creates for Magnus’ fingers inside him. He strokes Magnus faster, loving the way the hard cock feels in his hand.

Magnus doesn’t reply, but instead crooks his fingers inside of Alec and does something that makes Alec’s eyes roll back in his head. Alec tries to raise his hips again, gets pushed back down like before and lets out a frustrated groan, his head falling down to rest on Magnus’ shoulder.

“Too close,” Magnus mumbles apologetically, biting lightly into Alec’s neck to muffle the sounds escaping him when Alec twists his hand around his cock. “Magic’s too—I won’t be able to keep it in check.”

Alec nods against his shoulder and starts moving his hips instead, pushing back to take Magnus’ fingers in deeper. Magnus rewards him with a third finger, and Alec marvels again at how slick they feel, how insanely good it is to fuck himself down on them without the sharpness of pain distracting him from the building pressure.

He moves his hips faster, opening his eyes and feeling another surge of heat run down his spine at the look of Magnus’ face. Magnus’ head is tipped back, his eyes firmly closed as his breaths come in short, shallow bursts. Alec tightens his hand around him and watches in awe as Magnus’ whole back arches, a low moan breaking from his throat as he starts to come into Alec’s hand.

Alec works him through it, clinging to his own control until Magnus’ whole body slumps against the side of the pool. His arm lets go of Alec’s back to wrap around his neck instead, pulling him in for a breathless kiss.

Alec grinds back against Magnus’ fingers half a dozen more times and then lets himself go, coming with a muffled shout and emptying himself against Magnus’ stomach. He clings to Magnus as the wave keeps rolling, Magnus’ fingers inside him drawing out the pleasure until Alec has to reach behind him and still Magnus’ wrist, unable to take it anymore.

He moans against Magnus’ lips, completely and utterly spent. Every part of his body tingles, and it feels _so good_ , like he’s melting against Magnus—melting _into_ him—their heartbeats joining up and Magnus’ magic pulling him in, making them— 

His eyes widen as he feels something inside of him uncoil and explode outwards. There’s a flash of light, and Magnus wrenches himself away, breathing hard as he puts a few inches of crucial distance between them.

“Stay back,” Magnus urges, his eyes turning yellow as wisps of magic form in the palms of his hands. “Just breathe and stay still, Alec. It’s okay.”

Alec looks down at himself and feels his heart stop—there are green lines running up his stomach under his skin, spreading quickly across his chest. “What’s going on?”

“Just, breathe,” Magnus tells him, which doesn’t help calm him down in the slightest. The green lines are spreading down his arms now, pushing Alec closer and closer to panic.

Magnus’ magic flows across the surface of the water, reaching Alec’s middle and hands. White sparks goes off at the contact, and as the sparks travel up his body, the green lines start to fade.

They both let out a long, measured breath when Magnus’ magic falls back.

“What just happened?” Alec asks, adrenaline still rushing through his body, making his voice come out more rushed than intended.

“Another spontaneous attempt to connect,” Magnus replies. “Your shadowhunter essence was trying to find its way out. To merge with mine.”

“Shadowhunter essence is green?” Alec blurts, and then flushes as he sees Magnus quickly bite into his bottom lip to hide a grin. “Shut up, that’s obviously not what I meant to say.”

“Oh, no, do go on,” Magnus answers. “Colours are very important. I’m glad we have that interest in common.”

Alec tries to glare at him, but ends up battling back a smile instead. The air between them feels immediately lighter, and Alec can sense that his heart’s slowing down, getting into a more relaxed rhythm.

“So what _does_ it mean?” he asks. “You said, um, earlier that it’d be dangerous for your magic to, um, _pour into me_ , I think was the phrase?”

Magnus narrows his eyes, and Alec can’t keep back his grin anymore. “I’m just saying.”

“ _You,_ are way too tempting for your own good,” Magnus replies. And then his shoulders slump and the grin falls off his face. “This is serious, though. We can’t let this kind of thing keep happening.”

Alec subconsciously stands up a little taller, squaring his shoulders. “What are the risks?”

“Worst case? We could form a bond,” Magnus replies. “And besides the fact that you already have one highly volatile bond to handle, we’ve known each other for less than a week. And I don’t know about you, but that’s a little bit fast to make a commitment for the rest of our lives, as far as I’m concerned.”

Alec’s stiffens in shock, breath hitching in his throat. “Yeah, um. That’s—” 

“Hey,” Magnus says gently, taking a couple of steps forward and reaching out, brushing the back of his fingers against Alec’s, “it doesn’t have to put an end to anything; we just need to be more careful.”

Alec nods, unable to think of a reply. He turns his face away, swallowing. “I’m sorry I—” 

“Don’t be,” Magnus cuts him off. “I have a feeling we both really needed this today. So let’s not overthink it?”

Alec looks up, feeling himself blush. “Okay.”

“We’ll figure it out,” Magnus promises. “I’ll do some research. Let’s just… take things one day at a time?”

Alec turns his hand, curling his fingers loosely around Magnus’ own.

“Yeah,” he says, “I’d like that a lot.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1) Yes, that's 100% a Little Mermaid reference. Well spotted. :)  
> 2) The whole "shadowhunters (jace) are made of gold! they have golden blood and golden eyes because angels!" makes me /o\ so (headcanon alert) Alec's essence is green. Because, think about it, of course it is. Green is awesome. Also, it matches his eyes. ;)


	12. Waking Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alec and Magnus wake up together, Izzy finds something important, and Jace and Alec discover a dangerous side effect of their mutated bond.
> 
> **The notification for last chapter (11) never went out from AO3, so if you missed that one, you get 2-for-1 with this one. :)**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Life update! My exams are finally done (at least until mid-January, yeeeeeeeees) and I think I've passed them all. *praying hands emoji*. Meaning I should _finally_ have some more time to write. I'm really sorry for dragging these last few chapters out for so long. Thank you SO MUCH to everyone who's sent messages/commented on here. You've really helped me keep this fic going.  <33333
> 
> Morning after time! Please enjoy. :D
> 
> Also, can you believe this fic is almost at 10K for hits? :DDDDDDDDD I am so stoked about this! Thank you so so much, everyone who's reading. *throws kisses*

Alec wakes up with a strange feeling in his chest. He feels coiled too tight and impossibly elated all at once, warm and rested and somehow completely unconcerned with the fact that light is streaming through the windows and the sun is much too high in the sky.

He rolls over on his side and takes in Magnus’ sleeping form. Magnus is lying on his stomach, face mostly buried in his pillow and arms and legs sprawled out over three quarters of the bed. His hair is a mess, and there are patterns from a crease in the sheets pressed into his cheek. If Alec’s not very much mistaken, there’s even a bit of drool at the corner of his mouth.  
For some reason, it just makes Alec want him more.

He really isn’t doing well with the whole “cooling things down”. Then again, considering what happened between them the night before, neither is Magnus.

Alec blushes slightly at the memory, feeling suddenly, painfully _happy_. He leans in and presses his face against Magnus’ neck, breathing him in and pressing a careful kiss to the underside of his jaw.

Magnus stirs and starts to turn over, his mouth stretching into a smile. “Good morning.”

“Morning,” Alec echoes, moving in close so he can wrap his arm around Magnus’ waist properly.

“Sleep well?”

“Mhm.” Alec moves a little closer still, sliding his right leg on top of Magnus’. His half-hard cock gives an interested twitch, and Alec closes his eyes in pleasure, pressing it more firmly against Magnus’ hip.

Magnus’ smile widens. He rolls over on his side and reaches for Alec, bringing their bodies flush together. His hand slides back over Alec’s hip, down between their stomachs, and Alec gasps as he feels Magnus’ fingers wrap around his length, stroking him lightly until Alec starts trying to thrust into his hand to find more pressure.

“ _Definitely_ a good morning,” Magnus murmurs, leaning in to press a row of kisses to the underside of Alec’s jaw. He rolls them over again so that Alec is on his back, tightening his hand and pulling a sound embarrassingly like a whimper from Alec’s throat. 

“I must confess, I like having you like this,” Magnus continues. “All… open and pliable. I’m not sure what I want to do first.”

Alec wraps his arms around Magnus’ waist in reply, spreading his legs to give him more room to move. One of his thighs come up to stroke the side of Magnus’ hip, and a groan breaks from his throat when Magnus lets go of his cock to grab the inside of his thigh instead, pushing it up and out as he shifts his weight and starts moving down Alec’s body.

Alec’s hands instinctively go to Magnus’ head, his fingers tightening in his hair as Magnus goes down on him. Magnus keeps the tempo slow, lips and tongue exploring every inch of Alec’s length, but the hot suction still pushes Alec right up to the edge in no time at all.

Magnus’ nails dig into his thighs, and Alec feels a current of magic run over his skin, settling over the building pressure deep in his gut and holding it in, even as Magnus’ mouth pulls him to the breaking point. 

He closes his eyes and arches into it, biting down of his lower lip and tugging lightly at Magnus’ hair in warning as the pleasure begins to crest. Magnus follows Alec’s lead and lets himself be pulled off his cock, and Alec quickly gets a hand on himself, gasping as he jerks himself the rest of the way.

He’s still a bit punch-drunk from his orgasm when Magnus moves back up to lie next to him, leaning in and pressing a slow kiss to Alec’s lips.

“I have another confession to make,” Magnus murmurs, and Alec can tell that he’s smiling when their lips brush together again.

“Oh?”

“I was hoping you’d be a fan of having someone’s mouth on you,” Magnus replies. “Opens the door to so many things.”

Alec’s heart skips a beat. He rolls over on his side to better curl himself into Magnus’ body, sliding a hand around Magnus’ waist to pull him closer. “Like what?”

Magnus grins. “I think I’ll rather let you figure them out one by one. Anticipation is half the fun, after all.”

Alec feels an answering grin spread across his face as well. He doesn’t know how it’s possible for him to be lying here, in Magnus’ bed, and not feel any of the uncertainty or awkwardness he always imagined having sex with someone would bring. The few times he even allowed himself to think about it, he pictured hunger and desperation, rushed hands fumbling in the dark and sneaking out in the dead of the night—never sunlight and easy smiles and a devastating feeling of _happiness_.

He closes his eyes and takes a deep, slow breath, trying to get his reeling emotions back in check. The hand on Magnus’ waist starts wandering, almost of its own accord, sliding teasingly down to the small of Magnus’ back and then down over his ass, across the back of his thigh before coming to a stop at his hip.

He shifts his weight, taking Magnus’ with him and rolling him over on his back. “My turn.”

“No arguments from me there,” Magnus replies, stretching out his legs and getting himself comfortable. “One second. Let me just—”

He moves one of his hands in an intricate spiral, and Alec watches in fascination as an ice-blue mist starts to form, sinking into Magnus’ skin.

“Just a light binding spell,” Magnus explains, a shiver going through him as the magic fully settles over his body. “Not ideal, but it’ll do for now. Just... go slow, okay? And if there are any sparks going off, pull back until I can get my head together.”

Alec nods and leans in, wanting to feel Magnus’ mouth against his again. “Okay.”

“Okay,” Magnus echoes into their kiss, and there’s a slight tremble in his voice that makes Alec pause. He pulls back slightly, just enough to see Magnus’ face properly.

“Are you—Magnus, if you don’t want to—”

“I do,” Magnus interrupts him, tilting his hips against Alec to make his point. “I one hundred percent want you to get between my legs right now, and if you don’t get to it soon, I might be forced to start without you.”

Alec grins and leans in to kiss him again, letting the hint of desperation in Magnus’ kiss help settle his own nerves. “Got it.”

He takes his time moving down Magnus’ body, both because it seems to be riling Magnus up and because he’s not quite sure what to do once he gets to where he’s going. The tip of Magnus’ cock drags across his sternum as he lowers his head to stroke and kiss along Magnus’ abs, leaving a trail of wetness in its wake. Alec moans, shifting his weight so that the wet tip slides across his pec, hissing in pleasure as it grazes over his right nipple.

“Stop,” Magnus tells him, and the hoarse, breathless way his voice comes out makes new waves of arousal begin to build in Alec’s gut. He pulls away and sits back on his haunches, waits until Magnus’ breathing starts to slow down and he nods for Alec to continue.

“Um, I’m—not sure how to… go about the next part,” he confesses, feeling himself blush as Magnus opens his eyes and looks back at him. “I mean, I don’t… actually remember how.”

“Don’t worry, it’s pretty straight-forward,” Magnus replies, tilting his head back and letting out a hiss when Alec reaches out and wraps a hand around his cock. “Oh, fuck, the way this—even with the spell, it’s—gngh—”

“Intense?” Alec supplies, tightening his grip on Magnus’ cock as Magnus nods and visibly swallows. He moves a little further down the bed and then leans down, closing his eyes and pressing a first, slow kiss to the tip of Magnus’ erection.

They both moan, and Alec does it again, parting his lips a little and letting the first half inch slide into his mouth, over his tongue. He looks up at Magnus and sees him lying back with his eyes tightly shut, an almost pained expression on his face.

Alec pulls back. “Still okay?”

Magnus nods jerkily, and Alec goes back down, taking in a little more of Magnus’ cock and tightening his lips around it. He goes slowly, feeling his way down and letting himself get used to the sensations until the sounds Magnus keeps making get the better of him, making him bob his head faster, suck harder, and fully lose himself in the heat and taste of it all.

A spark of light goes off, bright enough to notice even with his eyes closed, and Alec forces himself to pull back, unable to keep a small moan down as the last inch of Magnus’ cock slips from his mouth. 

“It’s okay, keep going, I’m still—” Magnus breaks off, gasping as Alec wraps his hand back around him and leans back in. A few seconds later, his hand comes down on Alec’s shoulder, pushing him off again and making them both groan. “Wait, wait, I—want to come in your mouth. Hang on, let me just—”

He waves his hand, and a small, shiny square appears between his fingers. Magnus brings it to his mouth and tears the wrapper with his teeth, pulling the condom out and handing it to Alec.

Alec takes it, feeling some of his nerves return as he turns the circle over, trying to figure out which way is up. “Um. I—” he starts, feeling himself flush hotly as he meets Magnus’ eyes. “I’m not sure how to use this. I don’t think I… have.”

Magnus freezes for a second, and then pushes himself up into a sitting position, reaching for Alec’s face and pulling him into a long, deep kiss. Alec melts into it, letting Magnus’ touch soothe and re-centre him until Magnus pulls back, reaching out to take the condom in his own hand and holding it up between them.

“Here, I’ll show you how it works.”

Alec watches as Magnus rolls the condom down over himself, his own hands itching to reach out and help. He pushes Magnus back against the bed as soon as it’s done and leans in, taking the first few inches of Magnus’ cock back into his mouth.

It takes a moment for him to get used to the new feel and taste, but the way Magnus lets go of the strict control he’s kept on his body and starts tilting his hips erratically to get more of Alec’s touch quickly overrides any lingering insecurities. Alec closes his eyes and sucks harder, putting his hands on the insides of Magnus’ thighs, stroking up and down as he feels them start to tremble.

“Oh, fuck,” Magnus gasps, and Alec puts his weight down on his forearms, pushing Magnus’ hips down and keeping them still as he tilts his head and goes down deeper. “Oh, fuck, fuck, _fuck_.”

Alec feels the twitch as Magnus starts to come and instinctively starts pulling off, then remembers he doesn’t need to and goes back down, keeping his mouth on Magnus until he stops pushing against Alec’s hold and melts back into the bed with a long, pleasured moan.

Alec pulls off, dropping his forehead down to rest against Magnus’ thigh as he gets his breathing back under control. When he opens his eyes again, what he sees makes him scramble up to a sitting position, his eyes wide.

“Magnus.”

“Mhm?” Magnus asks, one arm draped over his eyes and his chest still heaving. “What?”

“You’re shimmering,” Alec tells him, pulling himself back a little, eyeing the suddenly glittering quality of Magnus’ body warily.

“It’s the bind,” Magnus replies drowsily, a small smile spreading on his face. “Some magic got out and was trapped between it and my skin. It’ll fade with the spell.”

“Oh, okay,” Alec says, breathing out in relief. He moves up the bed, pulling the bedsheets with him and draping them over both of them. “That’s good, right? We were careful enough?”

“All good,” Magnus agrees. “We’ll have to find a better blocker, though. That spell is _exhausting_. I want to stay in bed all day and nap.” 

Alec throws a quick glance at the sun outside the window and winces. “I’d really love to do that, but—”

“But you have duties,” Magnus fills in for him. “New Head of Institute duties, even. It’s okay, I understand. I should get up in a few hours too, actually. I need to be at the Spiral Labyrinth this afternoon for a strategy meeting.”

“Can I get you anything before I leave?” Alec asks. “I feel really shitty about just ducking out without even making us breakfast.”

Magnus’ smile widens. “That’s okay, I’ll be happy to let you make it up to me.” He waves his hand in the air, and a tray of assorted fruits shapes itself into existence next to them on the bed. Magnus reaches for a piece of dragon fruit and holds it up in front of Alec’s face. “A snack for the road?”

Alec rolls his eyes, but leans forward, letting Magnus push the piece of fruit into his mouth. “Thanks. You know. For... everything. I know we still have a lot of things we need to talk about, and I know things are complicated at best, but this was… good, right?”

“It was,” Magnus replies softly. A flicker of something Alec can’t decipher goes through his eyes, before he leans in and presses the softest of kisses to Alec’s lips. “Now go. I’ll talk to you later.”

He makes a shooing motion, and Alec gets himself out of bed, ducking into the bathroom to gather his clothes and take a quick shower in the hopes of making himself look at least somewhat presentable.

When he comes back into the bedroom, Magnus is asleep, his skin still shimmering softly in the morning light.

* * *

It’s almost lunchtime when Alec finally makes it back to the Institute, leading to him having to do some quick thinking to make up a reason for having been gone all morning, as well as having to race through some of the reports he was supposed to have done and feeling uncomfortably guilty for having to half-ass them.

Izzy is finishing up with the autopsy for the second forsaken when he finds her afterwards. She’s seemingly in deep conversation with Jace, who’s helping her hold up an opening in the forsaken’s body with a dangerous-looking set of tongs.

“I’m just saying, what if he _does_ have someone on the inside?” Jace is saying quietly. “Think about it, Izzy. I know you want to trust everyone here, but the Institute has been remodeled several times since the days of the Circle, and the wards have been recast as well. Valentine must have gotten the information from someone who knew the current setup.”

“Like who?” Izzy replies, sounding frustrated. “Jace, I’ve thought about this too, of course I have, but who could it possibly be?”

“We’ve had a number of new recruits in the last year,” Alec says, making the other two turn around as he walks up to them. “They wouldn’t have clearance to know about the secret passages or the setup of the wards, but maybe they tricked someone more senior and got them to reveal information.”

“See? That’s totally possible,” Jace tells Izzy. For some reason, when he turns back to Alec, their eyes don’t quite meet.

Alec doesn’t think much of it at first, but when it happens a second and then a third time as the three of them keep talking, uncertainty starts to grow in his mind. 

“Okay, what’s wrong?” he asks, after Jace tells a spot on the wall next to Alec’s head what they know of the background of one of their newer shadowhunters.

“Nothing,” Jace replies, a little too quickly. “It’s _nothing_ , okay,” he repeats, when Izzy turns to look at him questioningly as well. “Stupid dream, that’s all. I really don’t want to talk about it. And trust me when I say that neither of you want to hear it.”

“What? Of course we do. Why wouldn’t you—” Alec starts, then sees the look Jace is giving him and stops short, realisation setting in. “Oh.”

“Yeah, ‘oh’ is right,” Jace says. “Now, will you leave it alone, please? Both of you?”

“Yeah, sure, of course,” Alec replies, feeling the back of his neck burn and suddenly wishing he was back with his reports. “We all done? Izzy, I need you in my office as soon as you’ve finished up here—the paperwork for your next mission has arrived.”

Izzy’s eyes widen in surprise and excitement, and Alec can’t help but smile.

“Yeah, of course,” she says. “Let me just do the last swabs on the clothes this one was wearing, and I’ll be ready to go.”

“What mission?” Jace asks, and Alec fills him in about the Seelies while Izzy spreads out a pile of dirty fabric on a table and starts cutting into it with a pair of scissors.

The minutes drag out before them—Izzy is meticulous, yet another thing that Alec loves about her—as he and Jace try to find their footing in their conversation again.

“So where’s Clary, anyway?” Alec asks, crossing his arms over his chest. “I thought you and Izzy were going to keep an eye on her?”

“She’s a shadowhunter, not a child,” Jace throws back, but then pulls a hand through his hair with a sigh. “She’s spending the day at the DuMort. Apparently there was some kind of best friend emergency.”

“Sounds dire,” Alec quips, which actually gets a small smile out of his _parabatai_. “Izzy, I’m going to go on ahead and start processing your paperwork, all right? Come join me when you’re ready?”

“Wait,” Izzy says, “there’s something hidden in the lining of this pocket, hang on…”

A metallic _clink_ is heard as whatever she’s found falls out onto the stainless steel. Izzy freezes for a moment, and then carefully reaches out and picks the object up, holding it up for Jace and Alec to see.

“It’s a ring,” Jace says, frowning. “Why would—”

“ _Use the ring_ ,” Izzy interrupts, looking at Alec with wide eyes. “What Hodge said, right before he died: use the ring.”

“That’s impossible,” Alec replies, his stomach sinking fast. “There’s no way he could have known.”

“Unless he _did_ ,” Izzy agrees, looking suddenly pale. “Oh, God, I think I’m going to be sick.”

“What? No,” Jace protests, looking between Izzy and Alec in alarm. “Come on, you can’t be saying that Hodge—this is _Hodge_ we’re talking about. He’s _family_.”

“He’s also a Circle member who never officially denounced Valentine,” Alec replies. “I know none of us want to think it, but what if—”

“Well, there’s one sure way to find out, right?” Jace cuts in, moving forward and taking the ring out of Izzy’s hand. “We use the ring.”

“Are you insane?” Alec exclaims. “You have no idea what that thing does.”

“Alec’s right,” Izzy says. “At least let me run some tests on it first. And we can ask Magnus to check it for magic, make sure it’s safe.”

Jace looks at her for a long time, and just as Alec thinks he’s going to concede the point and hand her back the ring, Jace spins around and jams it onto his finger before Alec has a chance to stop him.

“No!”

The ring glows blue, and Alec and Izzy instinctively move in close to Jace as a projection of Valentine Morgenstern appears in front of them, his hand touching a similar ring on his own finger.

Valentine looks at the three of them in surprise, then focuses his attention on Jace. A disturbingly pleased smile spreads across his face.

“Well, this is a nice surprise. I take it my little delivery scheme didn’t go according to plan, then? I hope you aren’t being too hard on poor Hodge; being cooped up for so long can make any man a little desperate.”

Alec feels his heart sink at the confirmation, quickly followed by an overwhelming surge of anger. “He was killed in the attack.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Valentine replies, not sounding it in the least. “Oh well, you win some, you lose some, I guess. Now if you’ll excuse me; I have a great many things to do.”

The projection flickers out, leaving the three of them alone in the room again, staring at the now empty space with varying degrees of shock. Jace is the first to recover his wits. He pulls the ring off his finger and turns to Alec, grabbing his stele out of his pocket and reaching for Alec’s hand.

“Wait,” Alec says, pulling his hand back before Jace can activate the rune on his palm, “the bond might not—”

“I don’t care,” Jace interrupts him. “These rings are tied together, and we have one chance to track Valentine before he ditches the one he has. We’re taking it. Izzy’s here; we’ll be fine.”

Alec presses his lips tightly together, but nods and holds out his hand, keeping it still as Jace draws the bridging rune. The connection flares up between them before their hands even have a chance to fully touch, wild and on edge, like every negative emotion going through either of them is pulled to the surface and amplified.

Alec closes his eyes and tries to even out his breathing. Images and colours are flashing on the back of his eyelids, disjointed and random, and there’s _so much_ of it, a million impressions pulling at him at once.

He staggers forward, his free hand gripping for Jace’s shoulder as everything starts to spin. The increased contact helps, and Alec drops his head down as well, pressing his forehead to Jace’s neck and taking deep, measured breaths through his nose to re-centre himself. Jace’s free hand goes around his waist, pulling them close together, and the whirlwind of impressions finally begins to slow down.

Alec sees them standing together at the edge of water—the East River bank by Lawrence Point, if he’s not mistaken—and his first reaction is disappointment. Wherever Valentine is hiding, the path forward goes over the water—where shadowhunters can’t track him. The area around his rune is pulsing, pain building steadily, so Alec mentally sighs and prepares to break off the connection, when something catches his attention out of the corner of his eye.

A green path is extending from his feet out over the surface of the water. It fades only a few yards out, but it’s enough to get a clear direction: North East, towards Rikers Island.

The pain from his rune builds to a peak, and Alec hears himself cry out. Before he can push it aside and focus back on tracking, there’s a hand on his chest, pushing him and Jace apart.

“Did you see that?” Jace asks as soon as they’re back to themselves. He’s slumped over in pain and breathing heavily, but there’s a gleam of excitement in his eyes. “That red light over the water?”

“Mine was green, but yeah. What do you reckon?”

“I think we finally got something good out of this whole mess,” Jace replies. “Alec, we just started tracking someone over water. This is huge! We could—”

“You could both die, most likely!” Izzy breaks in. “You both looked like you were about to collapse before I pulled you apart.”

“Oh, come on,” Jace tries. “I'm sure it just looked worse than it was.”

“Really?” Izzy replies. “So if I did this—” She reaches forward and punches Jace lightly where his _parabatai_ rune is. Jace cries out in pain, falling to his knees, and Alec feels himself mirror him, as a sharp, nauseating pain spreads through the bond into his own body. 

“Yeah, I can see you're both fine,” Izzy says angrily. Then she sighs and reaches out a hand to each of them, helping them back up. “What did you see?”

“He’s somewhere on the East River, North East of Lawrence Point,” Alec tells her. “Could be Rikers Island, but I doubt it—too large, and the correction centre on it means it’s full of mundanes. Might be one of the smaller islands around.”

“We should go through Valentine’s file again,” Jace says. “See if there’s anything in that area he has a connection to, from back in the Circle days.”

“Good idea, I’ll go pick up the files from archive, and you can—”

“Or, we could do it the quick way, and call someone who knew him inside and out back then,” Izzy says, taking her phone out of her pocket and raising to her ear. “Yeah, hi, Luke? It’s Izzy. We have a lead on Valentine’s hideout and could really use your help…”

* * *

Renwick’s is dark and quiet when they arrive. The building towers over them as they check the perimeter, Izzy and Jace taking the surrounding area while Alec and Luke go for the building itself.

“I don’t like this,” Alec says quietly. “It’s clear that someone’s been here recently, but there’s no sign of anyone right now. Feels like we’re walking into a trap.”

“I know what you mean,” Luke replies. “The scent signatures are still fresh. If Valentine has moved on already, he did it very recently.”

“He found out we had the ring less than two hours ago,” Alec says. “Awfully quick to move an entire operation.”

“Valentine’s arrogant,” Luke replies. “He’ll have his location warded against magic, and he knows neither shadowhunters or werewolves can track over water, so he’ll likely feel like his secret’s still safe.” He stops and turns to Alec with a frown on his face. “How _did_ you track him here, anyway? I assumed Magnus managed it somehow, but he’s not here now, so…?”

“No, he’s with the warlocks,” Alec replies. “Valentine’s still hunting them hard; they’re struggling to find better ways to keep ahead.”

“Yeah, we talked about it some on our way to dinner last night,” Luke replies. “There might be ways we can pool our power if we—wait, I—”

His nostrils flare, and Alec sees a flash of bright green in his eyes. He keeps his bow ready when Luke sprints forward, following him closely as they move through a long hallway and burst through a door at the end.

“Jocelyn!”

Two guards come running at them as they enter the room. Alex gets one of them with an arrow to the chest, and Luke makes the process short with the second one, throwing her into a wall and knocking her out cold.

Alec quickly scans the room. With the guards down, the room is empty apart from a strange glowing shape in the back that’s hovering in the air a couple of feet from the floor. Luke is already there and hunched down next to it, running his hands over what looks like some kind of force field.

Alec moves closer and looks from Luke to the woman trapped inside the glowing cocoon. If it wasn’t already obvious from the expression on Luke’s face, the similarities with Clary would make her identity instantly clear.

“Hey, Joce,” he hears Luke say softly, reaching for her hand through the force field and squeezing it lightly. “I’m so, so happy to see you.”

“What’s wrong with her?” Alec asks, leaning down and taking a closer look at the force field as well. 

“I don’t know. Spell of some kind, probably. We need to get her to Magnus.”

“I’ll call him,” Alec replies, pulling out his phone. He waits for Magnus to pick up for the full eight tones and then gets sent to voicemail. He hangs up and tries again. When he still gets voicemail on the third try, he leaves a short message, asking Magnus to call him back.

“No luck?” Luke asks, still feeling out the edges of the force field surrounding Jocelyn in an attempt to figure out how to move her.

“He’s probably busy with work,” Alec replies. “In the meantime, let’s get Jocelyn out of here before Valentine gets back. We can bring her back to the Institute for now. Unless... you have another place in mind?”

“No, the Institute is our best option,” Luke says, after thinking about it. “You’ve got better wards than we do, and it’s where Clary is staying. She’ll want to be close to her mom, especially until we figure out how to wake her up.”

“I’ll make arrangements so you can visit,” Alec says. “I’m sorry I can’t offer you to stay within the walls, but you know what Institute rules are like.”

Luke’s jaw tightens, but he keeps his mouth shut as they move out of the room and down the hallway.The silence grows heavier the closer they get to the main entrance, and Alec doesn’t know what bothers him more: the quiet disappointment he can feel radiate from Luke’s body, or the bitter resignation he sees on his face.

“I _am_ sorry,” he tries again. “I know it’s not a great solution, but if I bend a rule like that on the first day that I have official control of the Institute, the Clave will have a new Head appointed before the end of the week.”

“I’m not asking you for special treatment,” Luke replies, his voice perfectly calm. “I was a shadowhunter, remember? I know about the law. After all, It’s not like Joce and I are married. Or ever will be, in the eyes of the Clave.”

He looks back at Alec at that, one eyebrow raised in silent challenge, and Alec feels the words soak into his skin from all directions, making it suddenly difficult to breathe.

He turns his head away, pressing his lips tightly together, and then closes his eyes, pushing the suffocating feeling down and away. He can’t afford the kind of thoughts Luke is trying to push his way, not right now—definitely not until he’s fully secure in his position.

“Let’s find Jace and Izzy and make our way back,” he says instead. “And then we can—”

The sound of seraph blades clashing against each other make both of them look up.

“We’ve got company,” Luke says quietly, drawing the extra blade Izzy lent him earlier.  
Alec nods and pulls an arrow from his quiver, nocking it on his bow. “Fastest way to get a visual?”

Luke points to the right, where one of the boarded-up windows looks a little worse off than the others. Alec quickly draws his stele and activates an extra rune for stealth, as well as the one for night vision, and then makes his way over.

Five Circle members are out front, two of them going for Jace, while the other three are setting their sights on Izzy. Alec readies his bow and takes aim, but doesn’t feel especially worried.

That is, until a tell-tale shriek pierces the air.

“They’ve brought demons,” he tells Luke. “Izzy and Jace won’t be able to fight all of them by themselves. Go help. I’ll take out whatever gets in my range from here.”

Luke gives him a quick nod and runs for the front doors. As soon as he breaks through them and joins the fight, Alec lets his arrows fly, using the distraction to take down two of the Circle members in quick succession.

Izzy finishes off the last of her own attackers, and Jace gets the fourth with a blow to the chest. Both of them turn their attention to the approaching demons, while Luke is left circling the last of Valentine’s men.

“Greymark!” the guy exclaims, and from the way Luke’s back stiffens, Alec assumes this isn’t one of Valentine’s newer recruits. “Where are your claws?”

“I don’t need special powers to kill you, coward,” Luke retorts, slashing forward with his blade in a wide arc. 

The guy dodges, and a mocking smile spreads on his lips. “Don’t bother with that. It only lights up for real shadowhunters.”

“I’ll show you a real shadowhunter,” Luke throws back, and then moves forward again, slashing his blade through the air with fast, deadly precision.

“You know, you might as well give up now,” the guy pants, still going for bravado, even though Luke has him firmly on the defense. “Valentine is mounting an attack on the Spiral Labyrinth as we speak. The warlocks have been fighting us almost every day for weeks without anyone coming to their aid. They’re weak, and they’re running out of magic. Once we hold the Labyrinth, we’ll be able to pinpoint where the remaining ones are and take them out. With that, you’ll lose your wards, your portals… the demon towers in Alicante even.” He catches one of Luke’s blows with his own sword, pushing Luke back. “And when the Clave falls, we’ll take possession of the Mortal Instruments as well. Brave new world. Hope you’re ready for it.”

Alec’s blood runs cold. Before he has a chance to think it through, he’s got an arrow planted in the Circle member’s leg and is rushing out the door, drawing his own blade as he goes.

“You’re lying,” he spits out, pushing the guy down on the ground and putting his blade at his throat. “The Labyrinth is only accessible to other warlocks.”

“And only shadowhunters can enter the New York Institute,” the guy throws back with a smug little smile. “Valentine’s a genius when it comes to working with blood, don’t you think?”

“The demon blood injections,” Luke says, in a shocked tone of voice. “Alec, if the wards on the Labyrinth are built on the same blood matrix as the ones the warlocks use for the institutes, then…”

“A world without magic,” the Circle member says. “Oh, well, there’s still the Seelies, but we’re confident they’ll be willing to cut a deal once the warlocks are gone and the Clave has fallen.”

“Alec, watch out!” Jace calls from Alec’s left, and Alec looks up, just in time to bring his blade up and kill the demon that was coming for his throat. In the commotion, the Circle member beneath him sees his chance and rolls to the side. Alec sees a flash of a knife and wrenches himself to the side, pulling the dying demon with him to shield himself from the blow. 

As he falls, there’s the familiar sound of a blade meeting its target, and when Alec pushes the demon carcass away, he sees Luke stand over the Circle member, sword still in hand.  
He holds out his other hand to Alec, who takes it and pulls himself back up.

“Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it,” Luke replies. He looks over at Jace and Izzy, who are just finishing off the remaining demons. “Come on. Let’s get Jocelyn. It’s time to move.”


	13. Preparations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The battle against Valentines grows nearer, and Luke has a choice to make.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're getting near the end. One or two chapters left, depending on how long-winded I get. Two is probably way more likely than one, lbh. XD
> 
> Thank you everyone who's following the story. I'm extremely happy and grateful for each and every one of you. <3

“Call Raj’s, Sam’s and Alexis’ teams back to the Institute and tell them to start doing research and prep,” Alec tells Jace as soon as they’ve made their way off the island. “If we’re going to find the way to the Spiral Labyrinth, we need all hands on deck.”

“How do we even know that guy was telling the truth, though?” Jace argues. “Alec, I know you’re worried, but just think about this for a minute. What if us pulling our best fighters away from the Institute is exactly what Valentine wants?”

“Jace has a good point,” Luke says. “My gut tells me he was telling the truth, however. Or at least believing that he was.”

“Did you try calling Magnus again?” Jace asks Alec. “Maybe he’s just, I don’t know, in a meeting or something?”

“I did, and he’s not picking up. Jace, I need you on my side in this. If Valentine gets control over the Spiral Labyrinth we’re all fucked, and you know it.”

“I’m _always_ on your side,” Jace argues. “But I’m also your second in command, and it’s my job to tell you when something smells fishy. Valentine hiding right under our noses? Leaving Jocelyn in here, virtually unprotected? Having one of his goons tells us all about his plans? It doesn’t add up, and you know it.”

Alec takes a moment to take a deep breath, to keep himself from lashing out. “Fine,” he says instead, reaching into his pocket and pulling out the ring they found earlier. “Let’s track him, then. See what he’s up to.”

“Come on, he’ll have thrown that thing to the bottom of the river by now,” Jace protests. “There’s no chance we—”

“And what if he hasn’t? If you’re right and this is a trap, then he’ll want us to find him. So let’s give him what he wants.”

“Alec, this is a bad idea,” Izzy cuts in. She leans in closer and lowers her voice, “Remember what Cat told you about high emotions setting off the bond?”

“Then we’ll deal with that after!” Alec snaps. He turns back to Jace and quickly draws the rune on his hand before holding it up between them. “Jace, please.”

Jace looks back at Izzy, clearly torn. Then he meets Alec’s eyes, and whatever Jace sees in them is enough to make up his mind.

They both cry out as the bond activates; the ring between their hands feels like it’s trying to burn a hole through Alec’s palm.

Alec pushes forward anyway, throwing himself into the sensations until a blurry image starts to form in his mind’s eye. There’s a hint of smoke and sulphur, bright flashes of light, orders being called out and people screaming.

A battle.

Through the haze of it, he spots Valentine, his seraph blade out and slashing through the air towards a warlock with long, purple claws. Then, out of the corner of his eye, he sees a flash of bright blue light.

_Magnus._

Alec tries to turn his focus around, away from Valentine and towards the source of the light. The pain in his hand is spreading, going up his arm and into his chest, but Alec still pushes on, forcing the hazy images before him to sharpen and expand.

A blurry shape moves past him with unnatural speed and throws him off balance as it attacks one of Valentine’s men. Alec sees a flash of fangs, and then blood is splattering the ground around them.

 _“Remember: no drinking!”_ a familiar voice rings out over the sounds of battle. _“We don’t know what their blood’s been doused with!”_

 _“What the hell is Raphael doing here?”_ Alec hears Jace’s voice inside his own head.

 _“I don’t know, but we should—”_ is as much as he has the chance to send back before another blurry shape a bit further away catches his attention. _“Simon’s here as well.”_

Icy panic surges through the bond, overwhelming Alec’s senses.

 _“Close your eyes,”_ Jace orders, tightening his grip on Alec’s hand and causing the pain from the connection to kick up yet another notch. _“Close your fucking eyes, Alec!_ **_Right now!_ ** _”_

Alec does, and everything implodes around him, every sensation getting sucked in towards him in a massive vortex until he’s back on the ground on the East River riverbank, curled up in a ball on the ground with Jace’s body curled up against his.

Everything’s hot—far too hot—the skin on his hand pulsing like he just put it against an open flame. His head is throbbing so fiercely, Alec can’t even open his eyes. He rolls over on his stomach and forces his free arm to press him off the ground, feeling bile rise in his throat.

“Hurry, break the connection and get that ring away from them,” Izzy’s voice sounds somewhere close to him. “They need a fresh bridging rune. Here, hold them together. Tightly!”

“What the _hell_ is going on?” Luke asks, even as Alec feels a strong hand on his shoulder, twisting him back towards Jace. “I’ve never seen _parabatai_ tracking get out of hand like this. What kind of magic is Valentine playing with?”

“I don’t know,” Izzy says, a little too quickly. “But we need to get the connection stabilised again. There. Now, come on, _come on_ , you reckless, stupid—”

Alec gasps when the new connection activates, Izzy’s and Luke’s presence grounding it as the energy flows through the bond. The burning pain fades gradually, leaving him aching all over, and Alec instinctively tries to shift even closer to Jace, to make the process go faster.

“What is _wrong_ with you?” Izzy demands as soon as the two of them are able to gingerly get to their feet. “I don’t care how far you’re able to track, you’re going to kill yourselves at this rate, and I’m not going to just stand here and let you!”

“Izzy, Clary’s at the Labyrinth,” Jace says. “The guy was telling the truth; we need to go.”

“What?”

“The DuMort vamps are there, fighting with the warlocks,” Alec clarifies. “More importantly, Valentine’s definitely there. If we get there quickly, we have a real chance of catching him.”

“Okay,” Izzy replies, still looking a bit shaken. “Let’s get back to the Institute to make a plan, then. Luke, are you joining us?”

“Just try to stop me,” Luke replies. “I’ll tell my wolves to meet us there.”

 

* * *

 

“Okay, so our first point of action is finding the current location of the Spiral Labyrinth,” Alec says, as everyone gathers around the map table in the War Room, with a 3D hologram of Manhattan shimmering in front of them. “What’s the last known location?”

“East Village, a month ago,” Raj replies from behind him, where he and another shadowhunter are pulling up data on a number of different screens.

“They will have moved several times since then,” Luke says. “From what I understand from Magnus, they’ve been trying to move all of their locations as often as they can since Valentine started really putting heat on them.”

“Okay, but they can’t have moved that far, can they?” Jace asks. “Isn’t at least some of the magic of the labyrinth physically tied to the ley lines here? So they can’t just up and move it to, I don’t know, Minnesota or something.”

“We could contact the Seelies again, see if they know?” Izzy suggests.

“Or we could try and track one of the people there,” Jace counters. “Alec and I can get something from Clary’s room. Track her through our _parabatai_ bond.”

“Wait, Clary’s there?” Alaric asks, from the opposite side of the table. He turns to Luke, who nods. “Do you think she still has her phone on her?”

“To track her via GPS? Can’t believe I didn’t already think of that, let’s try it.”

“Vasquez and Didot should still be on shift,” Alaric says, hitting buttons on his phone. “Maybe Summers and Lawrence too.”

“Wait, what are you trying to do?” Izzy asks, frowning.

“We can find Clary’s phone using the NYPD system. We just need to get hold of someone with access to it,” Luke replies, his face growing tense as Alaric swears quietly and tries a different number.

“Here, use this terminal,” Raj interjects, making both Luke and Alaric turn around, eyes widening when they see the screens Raj is pulling up. “What program on the NYPD server do you need?”

“Scoot over,” Alaric says, moving forward. “Keyboard?”

“You can access the NYPD server from here?” Luke asks tightly, as Raj and Alaric get to work.

“Pretty much any mundane system we need,” Izzy confirms. “Anything that isn’t warded by magic. We mostly use it to keep our maps up to date and access blueprints for mundane buildings.”

“I see.”

“I’m in,” Alaric says, and Luke quickly moves over to him, just as the doors of the room slide open and Lydia walks in.

She stops short just inside the doors, her eyes widening slightly as she looks around the room.

Alec hurries forward. “Lydia. What are you doing here?”

“We had a meeting scheduled an hour ago, which you clearly forgot about,” Lydia replies. She catches sight of Jocelyn’s glowing form over by an alcove. “What’s going on? Is that—?”

“We got a lead on Valentine that had to be followed up on immediately,” Alec says, throwing a quick look in Luke’s direction to make sure he isn’t about to jump into the conversation when Lydia walks forward and carefully starts feeling out the forcefield around Jocelyn with her stele. “He’d already escaped by the time we got there, but we got information out of some of his men, and we found Jocelyn.”

“What’s wrong with her?”

“Spell of some sort. We won’t know for sure until we can bring in a warlock to examine her.”

“All right,” Lydia says. She quickly looks around the room again and then lowers her voice. “Let’s file that report immediately, and I’ll do one for emergency Clave approval as well. Now, what was the information you got?”

Alec tilts his head in the direction of the door, and Lydia follows him out of the room and over to his office. He holds open the door for her to walk inside and then locks it behind them.

“Valentine is attacking the Spiral Labyrinth. He thinks that by controlling that, he’ll control the warlocks, and then he’ll cut off the Clave’s magic supply. No more portals or wards.”

Lydia hides her reaction well, the only thing betraying her shock the fact that her face turns a shade paler than usual.

“That would give him a massive tactical advantage,” she agrees. “What’s the plan?”

“Find the entrance to the Labyrinth and bring in our specialist teams to try and stop him. We’ll leave enough people here to ensure the Institute is still well-protected, just in case Valentine has an alternate plan. Luke and his pack are coming with us to increase our numbers.”

“You’re bringing _werewolves_ on a Clave operation?” Lydia asks, astonishment clear in her voice now. “Are you sure that’s wise?”

“Are you saying you’d prefer it if I took all our shadowhunters with me and tasked the werewolves with protecting the Institute instead?”

“I’m saying you should ask for proper backup! We can get teams sent in from the other institutes, and the Clave militia’s—”

“The militia’s first priority is keeping Idris secure,” Alec cuts her off. “You and I both know that the Clave can’t afford to send more than a few of them away at the time. And getting teams from other institutes will take too long. We’re talking at least a couple of hours before any kind of task force could be ready.”

“Yeah, but—”

“Lydia, please trust me on this,” Alec says. “My teams are excellent, and I can have them ready for battle and out of here in ten minutes. We can put an end to Valentine _tonight_ , but we have to get going.”

Lydia presses her lips tightly together, clearly turning the options over in her head.

“I met your parents earlier today,” she says, taking Alec completely off guard. “They paid a visit to the Consul and I was cordially invited to listen in on the meeting.”

Alec does his best to keep his face neutral. “What did they say?”

“That they don’t think you’re ready for this responsibility,” Lydia replies. “They spoke a lot about tradition. Marriage, specifically.”

“Oh?”

“They seemed curiously invested in having you married as soon as possible,” Lydia continues. “Especially your mother.”

Alec doesn’t answer. Lydia keeps looking at him for a while, and then sighs.

“Look, Alec, I know how parents can be, okay? I don’t know what match they made for you that you turned down, but it’s clear that your parents are _not_ happy about it, or above trying to use this Institute as a bargaining chip to make you change your mind.”

Alec nods. “What was the Consul’s reaction?”

“You know how Dieudonne is about former Circle members,” Lydia replies. “He grilled them harshly; the topic got away from your ability to lead to whether they might have access to any new information about Valentine pretty quickly.”

“Okay, yeah. That’s… I’m not sure what to do with that information, actually.”

“Just keep your head on straight,” Lydia says. “Dieudonne clearly doesn’t have any lost love for your parents, and he does have a lot of influence, but it’s the Council that ultimately makes the decision about whether you get permanently appointed to this institute or not. They’re giving you this opportunity to prove yourself, so don’t do anything stupid. If you’re deemed unfit, it won’t just be your career that’s in jeopardy.”

They stare each other down for a long moment, until Lydia finally breaks away with a sigh.

“Okay, we’ll do it your way,” she says. “On one condition.”

“Name it.”

“Luke stays here. With at least one of your backup teams. As insurance.”

Alec does his best to hide a flinch. “He’s not going to like that. Clary’s practically his daughter.”

“All the more reason for him not to be directly involved,” Lydia says. “We’re Shadowhunters. We rule with our heads, not with our hearts.”

She meets Alec’s eyes again, and somehow Alec knows that she’s not going to fold a second time.

“I’ll talk to him.”

“I’ll get the paperwork ready,” Lydia replies. “Get your teams ready; let’s do this.”

 

* * *

 

“I don’t think you understand,” Luke says, after Alec has discreetly pulled him aside and explained the terms of the mission. “If I send my pack to battle and stay behind, I’m essentially giving up my position as alpha. I need to lead my pack in this, or I can’t lead them at all.”

Alec feels his eyes widen slightly before pushing down on his surprise. A small voice at the back of his head can’t help but wonder if Lydia was already well aware of this fact.

“What about your second and third in command? Can’t one of them act in your stead?”

Luke shakes his head. “Not on something like this. If I send one of them out to lead the pack, they’d have to challenge me afterwards. I’m not getting one of them killed because the Clave feels the need to reassert their authority.”

“I’m sure that’s not what—”

“Oh, spare me the crap,” Luke replies. “How do we get around it?”

Alec suppresses a wince. “I’m not sure you can, to be honest. Lydia is probably writing up the formal mission details as we speak. As the Clave envoy, it’s within her authority to set conditions like this.”

Luke raises a decidedly unimpressed eyebrow in Alec’s direction. “You’re still the Head of this Institute, aren’t you?”

“It’s not that easy.”

“From where I’m standing it’s exactly that easy,” Luke says. “So why are you here trying to placate me instead of trying to change her mind?”

“Because you’re not the only one with things at risk!” Alec snaps, and then immediately wishes he hadn’t. “I just—it’s _not_ that easy, okay? I need to show textbook performance for the next thirty days if I’m going to keep my position.”

The look in Luke’s eyes hardens. “And you’re not willing to take the risk. Must be nice to have that choice.”

Alec crosses his arms over his chest, an uneasy feeling starting to form in his gut. “Look, Luke, I wish I could help, but in this case, my hands are pretty much tied.”

Luke just looks at him for a very long time.

“You know, some part of me foolishly thought that the Clave would be happy with me becoming the new alpha,” he says, eventually. “It’s the closest they’ll ever get to having a Shadowhunter legitimately in charge of Downworlder affairs. Guess I was wrong.”

“Well, as a former Shadowhunter, you know how fragile the balance is,” Alec counters, even as he the sick feeling inside him grows. “I realise this isn’t an easy situation, but—”

“No, this is the Clave forcing my hand,” Luke cuts him off. “If I stay behind, I’m putting their orders before my duty to the pack. If I don’t, I’m in violation of the Accords. Either way, I’m in deep shit.”

“There’s the third option of keeping completely out of it,” Alec says, trying to think of something to save the situation. “I’m not saying it’s a good one, because we could really use the extra hands, but it’s there.”

“Walk away with my metaphorical tail between my legs, you mean?”

“Asserting the independence of your pack. Listen, I’m not saying it’s necessarily a good idea, but—”

“You have a point,” Luke says with a sigh. “I _could_ do that. It’s probably what your Clave envoy expects me to do—the _perfect compromise_. Take my pack out of the equation and reduce the complexity of the whole operation, as far as the Clave’s concerned. Except my partner is here in the Institute, and my daughter is out there, fighting for her life to take down a monster I very much helped create.”

He looks away, shoulders slumping. “Ever since Joce and I got together, some part of me has been waiting for the other shoe to drop. Guess it’s time.”

“Luke, I'm—”

Luke holds up a hand, neatly cutting Alec off. “I need a moment to make up my mind. Alaric should have a location by now, so get your people ready for battle. I’ll have an answer for the Clave before you move out.”

Alec nods carefully, opening his mouth and then closing it again as he realises that he has absolutely no idea of what to say. He leaves Luke to his thoughts, pushing down the uneasy feeling in his stomach as he walks back to the rest of his team.


	14. The Spiral Labyrinth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Battle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter took _forever_ to write. I'm really, really sorry for the wait. Action scenes are _hard_ /o\\. But! Long chapter, at least! And we're almost at the end. Writing the last chapter now. Or second last if I end up wanting an epilogue as well. But yes! Almost there!
> 
> Thank you so much, everyone who's reading this fic. Love you all. :)))

They’re ready to move out. Alec checks his own gear one last time before turning the attention to his team. Jace is touching his seraph blade to each of their team mates’, making sure that all their weapons light up like they should, and Izzy is making the rounds of the different groups, her whip out and moving in measured circles in front of her as she talks.

The wolves have gathered at the other side of the room, talking quietly among themselves. Alec really hopes that, whatever Luke decides to do, the rest of his pack will keep themselves under control—with every minute that passes, he can feel himself getting increasingly frustrated, and while he does his best to push the feelings down, it’s not a complete success.

He’s just about to give the order that they’re leaving when Luke walks back in the room, closely followed by… Lydia. Alec frowns as he watches Luke turn to her and say something that’s too quiet for him to hear, and an uneasy feeling starts up in his stomach when Lydia nods in reply and gives Luke a small, pleased smile. 

“Alaric! Maia! To me, please,” Luke calls out. “The rest of you, prepare to move out. Mission’s about to start.”

“I’ll be right back,” Alec tells his team, and then walks over to Luke, Lydia and the two wolves that have joined them. “What’s going on?”

“Alaric, I need you to stay here at the Institute and keep an eye on Jocelyn,” Luke says, completely ignoring his question. “Eyes on her at all times, understood? I’ll be back to take over as soon as Valentine’s been eliminated. Maia, walk with me as we move out. I need you to go back to the Jade Wolf and get something for me, and then join Alaric here to guard Jocelyn. Any questions?”

“None that need to be asked right now,” Maia replies. “I can’t say I’m happy to stay behind while the rest of you go to save the world, but if this is where you need me the most, then so be it.”

“It is. And thank you,” Luke says. “I’ll fill you in on the rest as soon as I can. Promise.”

“Hey, you’re our alpha now,” Alaric says, giving Luke a subtle smile. “Better get used to the few perks that come with it, like being the only person in the world who gets to tell Maia what to do.”

Maia rolls her eyes at that, but there’s a hint of a smile at the corner of her mouth as well.

“I’ll be in Alec’s office if you need me,” Lydia tells them, and then, to Alec’s continued surprise, holds out her hand for Luke to shake. “It was a pleasure to properly meet you, Luke. Good luck out there.”

She turns and gives Alec a small nod in recognition before walking away. As soon as she’s out of sight, Alec puts a light hand on Luke’s arm, wordlessly asking him to stay back as Alaric and Maia go to join their group.

“How did you get her to change her mind?”

“You’re not the only one who can make a deal for himself,” Luke replies, and there’s an underlying sharp edge to his voice that Alec doesn’t like the sound of.

“What kind of deal?”

“That’s between me and the Clave,” Luke says. “Let’s just say I don’t like it when my family is being used for blackmail, so I took care of it.”

“That sounds—” 

“Listen, Alec,” Luke cuts him off. “You made it clear that your own people are your top priority. I get that; It’s the same for me. So why don’t you worry about them and I’ll take care myself and mine? Now, do you want our help on this mission or not?”

Alec bites down on the retort that’s on the tip of his tongue and manages a curt nod, pushing his own feelings back in favour of putting himself in the right mindset for the mission ahead. 

“Get them ready. We’re leaving in five.”

 

* * *

 

They enter the Warlock realm through something as seemingly mundane as an ice-cream shop. A bell chimes over the door as they move inside, and Alec quickly leads his team through a curtain in the back, feeling the tell-tale pressure on all sides of him as a portal takes him away and he steps out onto a wide plain. 

The sounds of battle crash into him like a wave, and the sickening sweet smell of blood is already thick in the air. Valentine’s brought demons—a lot of them—as well as a large number of sluggish figures that are probably the same kind of enhanced forsaken that were sent to attack the Jade Wolf and the Institute.

A large structure with a central tower that has to be the Spiral Labyrinth is at the other end of the plain, and from what Alec can see, there’s still a shimmering dome surrounding it. He lets out a slow breath of relief and then turns his focus to the enemy at hand. His eyes, meanwhile, keep flickering back and forth of their own volition, searching for a spark of blue magic in the surrounding chaos.

“Listen up everyone! Team Red, left flank backup—find the warlocks up on that ledge and assist them; Teams Blue and Green, Ravener and Mantid demons to your right; Yellow with me and Jace towards the group of forsaken up ahead!” Alec calls out. “Luke, can you and your pack go in on a broad front and break the Circle members away from the demons?”

“Isolate and take them down one by one, you mean?” Luke replies. “We can do that. Let’s move out.”

They surge forward, seraph blades, and bows and claws and fangs. With the level of experience among the people fighting, the demons present don’t pose much of a threat, but the sheer number of them is overwhelming. For every demon cut down, another three seem to take its place. Getting through even the first line of them is incredibly slow work, and Alec feels himself getting increasingly frustrated, a slow sense of panic building in his gut as the main battle up ahead of them seems to be intensifying.

Luke and a few of his pack members manage to break through the line, and Alec and Jace’s team is quick to follow them. They move towards the centre of the plain, heading for a group of forsaken, when Luke transforms back into a man next to them and stops Alec with a hand on his arm.

“I’m taking some of my pack to find Clary,” he says, holding out his hand for Alec to hand him one of his extra blades. “She’s somewhere up ahead to the right; I caught her scent a minute ago.”

“We’ll come with you,” Jace says immediately, turning around to shout the order to their team.

“No, we’re not,” Alec tells him firmly, drawing Jace’s attention back to the battle just in time for him to block an attack by a spitting Ravener demon. “We’re sticking to the plan. Secure the Labyrinth. Capture Valentine. Now, come on.”

“But Clary—”

“Clary has the DuMort vamps at her back and Luke and his pack coming to find her,” Alec cuts him off. “She’ll be fine.”

Jace looks like he wants to argue, but Luke and his wolves are already moving, clearly not interested in the outcome of their argument.

Alec looks after him, then back at Jace. “Well?”

A burst of anger flashes through the bond, quickly followed by a spark of fear as Alec feels something come up behind him—far too close to his back. He starts to spin around, but is thrown to the ground before he can get a good look at his attacker.

“Alec!”

Jace moves forward with unnatural speed, swinging his blade. Alec rolls to the side and gets back up on his feet, drawing an arrow from his quiver as he goes. The forsaken that attacked him falls to the ground, pierced by Jace’s sword and with an arrow sticking out of its throat, but more are coming, and Alec quickly takes stock of the rest of his team, making sure they’re all taking their positions. 

Fighting the forsaken poses a different challenge than the demons. They’re strong and fight with sense of purpose like Alec’s never seen from their kind. He and Jace have three of them pressing them back towards the edge of the plain, and from what he can still see of the rest of his team, things are not going nearly as well for any of them as Alec would want them to. These forsaken are  _ smart _ , aware of their surroundings and worryingly strategic in their attacks. And it seems like no matter how many arrows Alec hits them with, they just keep getting up and coming back for more.

Pain spikes through his bond, and he’s throwing himself to the left on instinct, narrowly succeeding to push Jace out of the way as a blade hits the ground right where Jace’s head was a split second earlier. One of his hands comes back bloody, and Alec feels another spike of pain from the bond as he parries the next few blows while trying to cover Jace with his body.

He opens his mouth to call for assistance, but the words die in his throat when the forsaken surrounding them suddenly and without explanation  _ explode _ in front of his eyes. 

“Hello, darling,” Magnus says, stepping out of a portal. He looks visibly strained—paler than Alec is used to seeing him, with several tears and scorch marks marring his clothes. He still walks with as much confidence as ever, though, stopping to give Alec a smile and a wink before turning his attention back to the battle. “Come to rescue me?”

“That was the plan,” Alec replies, drawing his stele and finding Jace’s healing rune, relieved when his  _ parabatai _ sits back up almost immediately, groaning and putting a hand to his head. Alec draws a second  _ iratze _ and quickly makes sure that the wound on his arm has stopped bleeding before pulling both of them to their feet and then turning his attention back to Magnus. “You seem to be doing pretty well on your own, though.”

“Well, not to brag, but I do have centuries of practice,” Magnus says. He throws his hands out, and a wave of blue fire bursts forward, making the very air around them crackle with energy and sending the forsaken in their vicinity flying back. “Valentine tipped his hand by sending that forsaken to the Institute. I sent a message to Tessa last night, after I finished patching your wards. She and the others went to work on changing the ward matrix right away.”

“Oh,” Alec replies, taken aback. “You didn’t—”  _ tell me that _ , he starts to say, then remembers everything else that happened and has to fight back a blush. “I guess we were both a bit distracted last night.”

“Oh, I’d  _ definitely _ say so,” Magnus agrees, and, this time, the smile he sends Alec fully reaches his eyes. “Now, if Valentine can just hurry up and properly attack so we can finish this up, that’d be great.”

Alec frowns, turning his focus to the rest of the battlefield. “You’re luring them into a trap?”

“Once they reach the ground in front of the Labyrinth, we have a little surprise waiting for them,” Magnus confirms. “The problem is, Valentine clearly means to exhaust our magical defenses before going for a direct attack, so this is taking forever. I got Raphael and his people here to try and provoke him, but he’s not taking the bait.”

“Alright, so what can we do?” Alec asks. “Help drive them towards the Labyrinth?”

“No, too risky, we need to have as few of our people as possible in the middle of it when the trap slams shut,” Magnus says. “Raphael had an idea that’s worth trying; they’re setting it up now.”

Alec nods and then puts his focus back to the fight, as a wave of new demons descend upon them. These, at least, have the courtesy to go up in flames as he puts his arrows through them, and with Magnus’ help, Alec and his team force them back fairly easily, slowly starting to regain the ground they lost.

He’s in the middle of helping Jace wipe out a group of ravener demons when Raphael’s voice rings out over the plain, magically enhanced to the point where no one on the battlefield will be able to miss or ignore it.

_ “Hey, Valentine! I found that pretty daughter of yours, and I have to say, she tastes delicious! Step forward and show yourself, or I’m turning her right here and now!” _

Alec’s head snaps around in the direction of the sound, and his pulse kicks up a notch as he sees Raphael standing in front of the entrance to the Spiral Labyrinth with a limp-looking Clary draped around his neck. Even from the distance, Alec can see blood smeared all over her, vividly red against her skin.

It looks frighteningly real. Even knowing there’s a plan in motion, Alec almost buys it for a second.

Unfortunately, he’s not the only one.

_ “Clary!” _

Before Alec has a chance to stop him, Jace is bolting forward, practically leaping over the nearest group of people in his haste to move ahead.

“Jace! Wait!”

The words have no effect what so ever, and Alec curses under his breath as he shouts a few short commands to the rest of their team to stay where they are, before chasing after him. He can hear Magnus shouting for them to stop, but Jace clearly isn’t listening, and Alec can feel every bit of his worry, anger and determination surging through the bond. His feet keep moving forward of their own accord, the rune on his hip thrumming with energy. The sounds of battle grow louder in his ears, his focus narrowing down to a single point, instinct paired with habit taking over.

_ Whither thou goest, I will go. _

He catches up with Jace just as Valentine steps out from under a glamour, holding something small in his hand that emits a loud, wailing sound. Immediately, the demons and forsaken stop what they’re doing and fall back towards him, leaving Alec and Jace standing alone in the middle of the plain with their weapons still drawn, unsure of what step to take next.

Valentine walks forward towards Raphael, his troops moving in behind him to form a wide, solid line at his back. It’s a move clearly meant to intimidate, and the DuMort vampires answer in kind, getting themselves into position and dropping their fangs, snarling as they gather around their leader.

“Come on, this way.”

He follows Jace forward in a wide arc, cutting away from Valentine and approaching the Labyrinth at an angle. Jace seems to have grasped that something more is going on than Raphael taking a bite out of Clary just for fun, but it’s not enough to make him stop, and with every magically enhanced taunt Raphael throws Valentine’s way, Jace increases his pace.

They’re coming up close to the edges of Valentine’s army, and Alec quickly looks around to assess where everyone from their side is positioned. As soon as he does, his stomach drops—a few yards behind them, right at the point just passed by the last line of Valentine’s army, the grass is withering, a black, oily substance seeping out of the earth, spreading quickly. 

Alec grabs Jace’s arm and twists him around, pulling him along as he starts running in the opposite direction. They’ve made it almost up to the first line of vampires when a shimmering wall snaps into place in front of them, neatly cutting them off from getting any closer and effectively trapping them as the black goo behind them keeps spreading.

And not only them; Valentine and most of his army are successfully caught in the trap as well. Alec stands helplessly in front of the force field for a second, triumph mixing with panic as the demons closest to the black substance start shrieking in rage before literally going up in smoke.

“Now what?” Jace asks, his eyes darting in every direction, looking for a way out.

“No idea.”

“Is the other side blocked as well?”

“Why? You want to try for the world’s longest jump?”

Jace shrugs and gives him a pointed look. “You got a better idea?”

Alec clenches his jaw, then moves quickly to the side as the demons and forsaken behind Valentine start to fan out, forming a furious, snarling line that’s pushing up against the Labyrinth’s wards.

“Alec, Jace! Over here!”

Alec breathes a sigh of relief as he spots Izzy some hundred yards away, Catarina Loss at her side and a large number of shadowhunters right behind them. He grabs Jace’s arm and runs, sprinting across the narrow path Cat magicks for them through the black substance.

“Come on, we need to move back,” Izzy tells them as soon as they’ve made their way through. “Magnus said they’re moving in with the big magic guns as soon as they have Valentine where they want him.”

“What about Clary and the vamps?” Jace asks, throwing a worried glance over his shoulder as they move further down the plain.

“They’ll be fine,” Catarina answers. “We’ve taken down the wards that directly surround the Labyrinth, so once the attack from our side starts, they’ll be able to take cover inside it until it’s over.”

“Isn’t that dangerous?” Alec asks. “What if Valentine breaks through the force field?”

“He can’t,” Cat replies with calm certainty. “You need more than warlock blood to take these wards down—you need actual magic, and whatever he’s done to the poor souls with him, he can’t change the nature of what they are.”

“Okay, that’s good, I guess,” Alec says. “But what if—hang on, what’s he doing now?”

The four of them turn their attention towards the Labyrinth. Valentine is standing at the very centre of his troops, raising his hand into the air again. Another wailing sound goes off, this one a lot louder and somehow infinitely more terrible than the last one. It makes the demons surrounding him go absolutely berserk, and the forsaken— 

The forsaken begin to  _ glow _ , the skin on their faces and hands cracking open and bright light in every colour shining through.

“ _ No _ ,” Cat breathes out, and the quiet terror in her voice pulls Alec’s senses back immediately to high alert.

“What? What’s happening?”

“He can’t—it’s not  _ possible _ . He couldn’t have—”  

“He couldn’t have  _ what _ ?” Izzy urges her, whip uncoiling from her wrist as she speaks.

Catarina stands there, frozen to the spot, staring at the growing light coming from the forsaken in horror. Alec exchanges quick looks with Izzy and Jace as the forsaken start spreading out, moving away from Valentine, and raises his bow. He pulls an arrow from his quiver and nocks it, preparing to fight.

Seconds later, the world explodes.

 

* * *

_ “Everyone, down!” _

Alec obeys the order on instinct, throwing himself to the ground and curling into a ball, his bow falling out of his hands as he brings his arms up to protect his head. Explosions start going off left and right, massive blasts of multi-coloured light illuminating the battle field. Dirt and rock is raining down around them together with vicious splats of the black substance that was caging Valentine and his army in, and Alec curls into himself even more, steeling himself for the inevitable pain when the first salve of it hits him.

Through some miracle, the pain doesn’t come, and when Alec looks up, he sees a shimmering dome of dark blue magic extending out over their group.

“Don’t let them reach the centre of the Labyrinth!” Catarina shouts to him over the sound of the unfolding chaos as Alec pushes himself to his feet.

“Full force, straight ahead! Everyone prepare for close quarter combat!” he calls out to their group, looking around to see that everyone seems to have made it through the blast all right. “Speed, stealth and night vision runes active! Once we get into the Labyrinth, we’re likely to get separated, so careful who you strike at.”

“What the hell just happened?” Jace asks him quietly as everyone hurries to get themselves in order.

Alec shakes his head. “I’m not sure.” He pulls out his stele and draws a quick bridging rune on his hand, then holding it up for Jace to take. “You ready to do this?”

Jace grabs his hand without hesitation, and Alec has to close his eyes for a moment as the bond flares up. He takes a couple of deep breaths, focusing inward until he’s able to separate his own senses from Jace’s again.

They make it to the entrance of the Labyrinth just as the last remains of the wards keeping Valentine and his army back flicker and disappear. The enemy virtually pour forward, and it’s only minutes before the shadowhunters and remaining vampires are forced to fall back, heading into the Labyrinth in search of cover. 

“How are there still so many of them?” Alec asks, frustrated, as he slices off some legs of yet another lesser demon. “Where are they all coming from?”

“No idea. Whatever that thing in Valentine’s hand is, it seems to be drawing them here.”

“Well, we can’t just keep chopping at them,” Alec says. “This place is spreading us out way too thin. We need to find Valentine and the Circle members.”

_ Not before we get Clary out _ . 

Jace doesn’t say it out loud, but Alec still feels it through the bond, Jace’s fear coming across loud and clear. Frustration rises up inside him in response, and some of that must be spilling over the bond as well, because Jace’s jaw clenches, and the next few blows at the demons are more aggressive than before.

There’s a loud smattering in the air above them, and when Alec looks up, the sky looks like it’s burning. Fireballs in every colour are shooting out from the high tower located at the Labyrinth’s centre, raining down on them and finding their way to the demons with incredible accuracy. The sounds of magic mixes with the howling of wolves, making it clear that Luke’s pack has followed them in as well. Alec turns his head from side to side, automatically scanning for the familiar blue colour of Magnus’ magic, wondering where he’s fighting, hoping he’s okay. 

“Come on, the warlocks are taking the demons down; we need to find the Circle members,” Jace says, running his sword through the last demon with them and then turning to look at the Labyrinth itself. “Valentine’s bound to go for the centre. What way, do you think?”

Alec looks around as well. The walls of the Labyrinth are thick and impenetrable, solid stone overgrown with ivy. To their left is the way they came in. To the right, the path forks, going off in three different directions. Sounds of werewolves fighting, demons roaring and soldiers calling out warnings to one another are coming from everywhere at once—it’s impossible to know which path is the right one forward. 

“No idea.”

“Can we track?” Jace asks. “Magnus is probably in the centre, right?”

“How? I don’t have anything of his on me.”

Jace rolls his eyes at him and then moves forward, flipping the collar of the dark blue shirt that’s sticking out from beneath his battle gear with a snort. “Really?”

Alec’s hand goes to the collar as well, realising that Jace is right; he  _ is _ wearing the shirt Magnus got for him—must have picked it out without noticing when he quickly changed his clothes after coming back to the Institute that morning. “Oh.”

“I can’t believe you didn’t notice. That shirt is, like, a hundred times nicer than anything else you have,” Jace says, grinning. “Now come on, give me your hand.”

Alec holds it out to him, and Jace quickly draws the rune on his palm. They both sag as the tracking magic starts, just as strong and dizzying as when they looked for Valentine earlier. Alec opens his eyes and sees an emerald green path of light snake off down the second path to his right, then closes them again and sees the full path to the centre in his mind’s eye. Three left, two right, left again…

“Got it,” he tells Jace, letting go of his hand and breaking the connection. “This way.”

Jace starts to follow him, then suddenly stops in his tracks, grabbing Alec’s arm to hold him back as well. “Wait. Do you hear that?”

Alec frowns and puts his focus on picking out single voices in the loud chaos surrounding them. 

_ Well, Clarissa, I have to say I’m a bit disappointed in you. I’m not surprised you have your mother’s soft heart, but giving your own blood to a vampire? That’s pushing the altruism a little too far, don’t you think? _

Valentine’s voice sounds like it’s close by. Very close. Alec quietly signs to Jace to move with him, and together, they head down the first path to the right.

It turns out to be the wrong one, and Jace swears loudly as they come up against a dead end. Magic is virtually flooding the Labyrinth now—the warlocks clearly pushing back with everything they have—and the constant deafening flashes of exploding light makes keeping track of the twists and turns all the more difficult.

They go down another path, then one more. Alec can feel Jace’s panic rising the longer they search, pushing against the bond in sickening waves.

“Go right, I’ll take the left,” Jace tells him as they arrive at yet another fork. “This is taking too long. If we split up, we can at least cover more ground.”

Alec nods in agreement and starts to turn. Jace stops him with a hand on his arm.

“Wait, give me your hand.”

Alec frowns but holds out his hand to Jace, who grabs hold of it and draws a fresh bridging rune into Alec’s palm before clasping their hands together.

_ Can you hear me? _ Jace asks through their connection, and Alec nods.

_ Loud and clear. _

Jace lets go of his hand, taking a step back and looking back at Alec expectantly.

Alec shakes his head. “Sorry. Looks like it only works with physical contact right now.”

Jace turns away and swears, but then seems to remember something suddenly, because his face turns back to Alec so quickly Alec is surprised Jace doesn’t suffer whiplash because of it.

Something dark flashes through Jace’s eyes, and Alec doesn’t even have time to guess what it could be before Jace is in his space, pressing himself against Alec and grabbing the back of his head to pull him in for a kiss.

Alec wrenches himself away, managing to pull back just in time. “What the hell are you doing?”

“Look, it worked back then, right?” Jace says. “Weird, powerful magic stuff comes with the bond going haywire, and we could use some extra strength right now. It’s not like it’d mean anything.”

Alec just stares at him, his mind pulling a complete blank on what to say until, finally, another nearby explosion distracts him enough to pull himself back together.

“Not a chance.”

“Alec, come on…”

Disbelief mixes with anger in Alec’s chest, twisting together and clenching painfully. It hasn’t even been a full day since the autopsy where Jace couldn’t even meet his eyes, and less than two since they were sitting at Magnus’ breakfast table, so freaked out about the news about their romantic history that Jace managed to accidentally summon enough magic to burn blisters into Alec’s hand. Instead of simply reminding Jace of these things, Alec digs into his own mind, and then uses the fact that Jace is still holding on to his arm to angrily push a fragment of a memory at him. One where kissing is definitely not the only thing they’re doing.

Jace lets go of him so fast, Alec almost starts laughing. Probably would have, if the predictability of Jace’s reaction didn’t twist the negative feelings already eating away at him another turn, adding a bitter aftertaste. He jogs down the right fork without waiting for any further arguments, grateful for the distraction when he almost immediately comes up on a fight between two Circle members and a vampire from Raphael’s clan. He helps take the Circle members out, then sprints off down the next path. He fights another Circle member and a few still-standing lesser demons before suddenly feeling a metaphorical tug in his gut, followed by his  _ parabatai _ rune starting to burn on his hip.

He looks around uselessly, seeing only the same stone and ivy in every direction. It’s impossible to find his way down where he is, not to mention that fighting in such close quarters renders his bow all but useless.

He needs to find higher ground.

Scaling the wall of the Labyrinth is surprisingly easy. Alec moves forward on his stomach, trying to keep himself as invisible as possible and hoping that the explosions and the darkness will be enough to cover him. From what he can see, the demon ranks are finally being thinned out by the magical attacks, and most of the forsaken seem to have died when Valentine cracked them open to take down the wards. There are still plenty of people fighting, though, and Alec swallows heavily as he spots bodies of all kinds, littering the ground.

He re-activates his enhanced hearing rune and focuses inward, trying to pinpoint Jace’s location through the bond.

He finds them almost immediately: Jace and Clary are standing together, both with their seraph blades drawn, facing off against Valentine, who has a worryingly wide smile on his face.

“There there, Jonathan. You don’t want to kill your old man, do you?” Valentine says, and Alec watches confusion flicker across Jace’s face before it’s quickly replaced by anger.

“You murdered my father.”

Valentine’s smile widens. “I didn’t.”

“You’re a liar!”

“No, I’m not,” Valentine replies, spreading his arms wide as he takes a step forward. “ _ I _ am your father, Jace. I always have been. The face you saw as Michael Wayland’s was mine. It was a powerful glamour. Here, just watch.” He takes out his stele and runs it over the inside of his wrist, morphing into a different man in front of their eyes.

“Hello, son. It’s nice to see you,” Valentine says, with the other man’s slightly different voice, and Alec is suddenly and violently flooded by emotion.

He slaps a hand over his rune, putting all his focus on trying to keep his breathing slow and steady, sending calm and reassurance towards Jace’s side. From what he can tell from the chaotic feedback, it’s not having any effect.

“Feel free to ask me to prove it, if you like,” Valentine continues. “Ask me some silly thing, like what I presents I got you for your birthdays.”

The emotional chaos coming from Jace sharpens to a nauseating, spiralling panic, and it’s all Alec can do to just keep himself balanced and hidden on top of the wall. He needs to do something. Needs to get Jace out of there, first of all—somewhere Valentine can’t reach him. 

“Jace, don’t listen to him,” Clary says, and Alec almost likes her for a second as she manages to break Jace’s complete focus on Valentine and draw it to herself instead. “He’s  _ my _ father, we know that for a fact.”

“Yes, that’s true,” Valentine immediately cuts in. “I  _ am _ your father, Clary.  _ And Jace’s. _ Think about it. Why are the two of you so drawn together? You are meant to be. Blood calls to blood, no? Brother and sister, finally united.”

“No!”

Jace throws himself forward into the attack, all emotion and impulse, making it all too easy for Valentine to dodge his blade and use Jace’s momentum against him to twist him into a punishing hold with both his hands behind his back.

“You won’t kill me, son,” Valentine says, with what sounds like complete confidence. “You were always too weak to make the tough calls. Always too soft, even when all it got you was the death of the things you loved.” 

He pushes Jace away from himself and reaches into his pocket. A portal opens up behind him, Jace’s panic spikes through their bond, and Alec finally,  _ finally _ manages to pull himself together and  _ move _ .

Valentine cries out when the arrow pierces his flank. Alec has a second one ready immediately after, taking aim at his heart. 

“Don’t move!”

Valentine freezes, hunched over in pain with one hand reflexively gripping the arrow. His eyes dart between Alec’s bow and the open portal only feet away from him, and Alec knows, a split second before it happens, that’s he’s going to try and make a run for it.

_ Take him down! _

He pushes the order at Jace with all the power he has left, feels it travel lightening-fast through the bond towards his  _ parabatai _ , burning through everything in its way. Dots begin to dance at the edge of his vision, spreading rapidly inward, and Alec forces himself to keep upright until he hears the  _ thud _ of Valentine being tackled to the ground and Clary’s hurried footsteps as she runs forward to help restrain him.

He drops down to his knees, but ends up a bit too far to the left. It’s a couple of inches only, but enough to lose his balance—enough to topple over the edge of the wall he’s perched on and crash towards the ground.

The pain as he hits the pebbled path barely registers next to that from his bond as it radiates through his body. He feels like he’s splitting apart at the seams, whatever magic’s inside of him too large to be contained. He cries out as it consumes him, burning bright through his blood. 

And then there’s nothing but blackness.


	15. Aftermath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which everyone deals with the aftermath of the battle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so I really really tried to wrap this story up in one chapter as planned, but after battling it for OMG SO LONG NOW, I had to throw in the towel and accept that I'm doomed to have stories that keep growing on me. SO! posting this part, moving forward with the rest. Also, I've promised myself that this is going to be complete before 2B starts. Keep your fingers crossed for me.
> 
> Also, I want to send an extra huge thank you to my tireless betas as well as everyone who's commented and shown interest in reading more of this story. You're really helping push this along. I definitely need a kick in the butt sometimes when I get stuck to get myself going again, so you're helping. A lot. Thank you. <3

Alec wakes to the strangest feeling of déjà-vu. He’s in the infirmary back at the Institute, judging from the distinctive smell of antiseptic. His entire body hurts, and he feels tired all the way down to his bones; even just opening his eyes is exhausting.

“Alec!”

Izzy appears at his side, checking his pulse. It’s not until she takes his right hand in hers that Alec realises that his left one has been immobilised—clasped together with Jace’s right one and wrapped tightly with some kind of gauze to keep them together.

Alec swallows against the dry feeling in his throat and wets his lips. “Hi, Iz.”

“Hi, yourself, big bro. How are you feeling?”

Alec lets his eyes fall shut again as he thinks about his answer. The pain in his body is deep and throbbing, but doesn’t feel life-threatening in any way. His mind is sluggish, as though he’s still half-asleep—which could be because of his own injuries or because Jace is still out cold and pulling at Alec’s own consciousness through the bond; it’s hard to tell.  

“Tired. Not sure.”

“You accidentally channelled a magical shockwave that knocked out everyone in a fifteen meter radius,” Izzy says. “Cat said that if the Labyrinth walls hadn’t been saturated with magic, you’d probably have turned some of them into rubble.”

Alec’s eyes snap open in alarm. “What?  _ How? _ ” 

Except as soon as the words are out of his mouth, he knows exactly how it happened. He looks over at Jace, feeling his heart sink.

“Did we—” He breaks off, swallowing. “Did anyone get hurt?”

Izzy sits down at the edge of his bed and gives him a small smile. “It was a battle, Alec. People always get hurt.” 

“Yeah, but—”

“I don’t know. There was magic everywhere at that point. Cat only realised what had happened because she recognised the type of blast damage from when she helped Magnus patch up the two of you last time.”

Alec nods, even as the sick feeling inside him keeps growing. “Is everyone else okay? Magnus. Is he—”

“He’s fine. He almost burned himself out of magic during the battle, apparently, but Cat said he’ll be okay once he gets time to recharge.”

Alec nods again. “When can I see him?”

Izzy opens her mouth to reply, then quickly closes it as a door opens nearby, followed by the sound of heels clicking against the stone floor.

“Dieudonne and Inquisitor Herondale are wondering when you’ll have an update on Alec’s condition,” Lydia tells Izzy briskly. “We’re ready to transport Valentine and his men to the City of Bones, and I need his signature on a million documents.”

“You’re in luck, he just woke up,” Izzy replies, standing up and moving to the side. There’s a sudden tension in her face that takes her a split second to hide; Alec doesn’t like the look of it. “I can’t let you move him until Jace comes to, though; we still don’t know what kind of magic they were hit with.”

“No problem, we can totally work around that,” Lydia says, a note of relief in her voice. She turns her attention to Alec, a small smile on her face. “Hi, Alec. Feeling okay?”

“Still in one piece,” Alec confirms. “What’s the Consul doing in the Institute?”

“After you left, I contacted the Clave, and they sent reinforcements to ensure the successful capture of Valentine Morgenstern,” Lydia replies. “We got to the Spiral Labyrinth only hours after you. It was a very successful operation; we have both Valentine and almost a dozen of his men in captivity.”

Alec takes a second to digest the information. It sits uncomfortably in his gut, but he’s not sure exactly why that is. The Clave stepping in makes sense, considering the stakes of the operation. And yet…

He looks over to Izzy again, sees her give him the slightest shake of her head in warning.

“You and Jace will get official recognition for capturing Valentine, of course, seeing as you’re in charge of the Institute that spearheaded the operation,” Lydia continues, oblivious to Alec’s increasing discomfort. “Dieudonne wants to organise a ceremony in Idris to thank you both personally once the dust has settled. Play your cards right, and your probation period might be over a lot sooner than you think.”

Alec nods, keeping his face carefully neutral. “What about the Mortal Cup?”

“Still high priority, but before we can wake up Jocelyn Fairchild, it seems we can’t really do much. Luke had some excellent intelligence on the warlock that created the spell that holds her in stasis bubble. He was at the battle, so we were able to find him easily enough.”

That little tidbit of information is definitely one that literally makes Alec sit up and take notice. The movement causes him to jostle Jace’s hand, sending a flash of pain through the bond, paired with a sluggish sense of panic that tugs directly at Alec’s mind. He falls back against the pillows again, wincing, tightening his hold on Jace’s hand until the feeling fades again.

Lyda frowns. “You okay?”

“Multiple cracked ribs,” Izzy says, before Alec has a chance to come up with an answer. “I’ve healed them, but they’ll still be sore for a while.”

“I’ll be back on my feet before you know it,” Alec confirms, then carefully maneuvers himself up the bed without moving his left hand. “Who’s the warlock? Did you bring back him here to the Institute?”

“Ragnor Fell, former High Warlock of London,” Lydia replies. “And no, there was a… slight altercation when we asked him to come back to Idris with us for questioning.”

That definitely does not sound good. Alec frowns. “Meaning?”

“The warlocks kicked up a fuss about him leaving. Things escalated. We… decided a strategic retreat was the best option for the time being.”

Alec feels his eyes widen, and is pretty sure that the incredulity surging up inside of him is similar to the one that’s showing on Izzy’s face.

“The warlocks just suffered a massive attack,” Izzy says tightly, clearly unable to bite her tongue any longer. “They’ll need every surviving warlock and every bit of magic they have left to secure the Labyrinth and heal their wounded.”

“I’m well aware, Isabelle,” Lydia replies, crossing her arms in front of her chest. “Which is why Ragnor Fell and his friends aren’t currently in custody in the City of Bones for assaulting representatives of the Clave.”

“Okay, one thing at a time,” Alec interjects. “Lydia, you mentioned paperwork that needed signing to put Valentine officially into custody. Why don’t we start there? Izzy, can you check on Jace’s values, please? He’s pulling at the bond like he’s in pain.” 

Izzy narrows her eyes at him, but moves away from Lydia and walks over to Jace’s bed, taking out her stele. Lydia follows her movements with her eyes, and then frowns slightly as they fall on Alec and Jace’s connected hands. “What does that do?”

“Bridging rune to the palm is the quickest way to activate our  _ parabatai _ bond,” Alec replies quickly, when he sees Izzy struggle to come up with something. “The tie is keeping it open so we can share energy and help each other heal.”

“Pretty clever,” Lydia comments, sending a grudgingly impressed look Izzy’s way. “Well, I’ll let you get back to that and go prepare the paperwork I need you to sign. I’ll be back as soon as it’s ready.”

“Thanks, Lydia,” Alec replies. As soon as she’s out the door, Izzy comes back over to him.

“I don’t like what the Clave’s doing.”

“What  _ are _ they doing?” Alec asks in reply. “Izzy, what is it that you know that I don’t?”

Izzy’s eyes flicker over to the door, and then she leans in close, pretending to check on one of the healing crystals that have been taped to Alec’s chest.

“I didn’t see it myself, because I went back here with you and Jace straight away, but Cat implied that some of the warlocks and vampires were killed by friendly fire.”

_ Not by accident, _ goes unsaid. Alec presses his lips together. “That’s… an incredibly serious accusation.”

Izzy lets out a shaky breath and moves her attention over to another crystal. “I know.”

“You said it yourself earlier—it’s a battle, people get hurt.”

“Except the battle was essentially over when the Clave arrived,” Izzy replies. “Jace and Clary took down Valentine before your bond went haywire, and the resulting blast knocked all four of you out cold. Luke and his pack already had most of the surviving Circle members under control, and Raphael’s clan was picking off the demons still standing after the magical attacks. All the Clave had to do was saunter in and declare it a win.”

“And now the Council and the High Inquisitor are here in person to oversee a prison transport.”

“Yeah.”

“Anyone from our teams chosen to assist?”

“Only Raj and Alexis, so far,” Izzy replies. “Want me to ask them to keep an extra eye out?”

“Yeah, please do that,” Alec says, and then closes his eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath to dispel the lingering fuzziness clouding his mind. “What was the battle outcome? How many did we lose?”

“Sixteen dead, eleven injured, three of them still in critical condition” Izzy tells him quietly, and Alec mentally swears, even as a sharp jolt of sorrow goes through him, because that’s more than a fifth of their active members down, rendering the Institute a great deal more vulnerable than usual.

“Shit.”

“You could say that again,” Izzy replies. “How’s the bond feeling? Cat said to keep an eye out for stabbing or stinging pain.”

“It’s… mostly quiet right now, actually,” Alec tells her. “Go. Handle things. I’ll join you as soon as Jace wakes up.”

Izzy nods. “Shout if you need me.”

“Will do. And Izzy? Thanks. I couldn’t do this without you,”

“Don’t I know it?” Izzy says, flicking her hair over her shoulder impishly, and drawing a small smile to Alec’s lips, despite everything. “Try to get some more rest, big bro; I have a feeling you’ll need it.”

Alec watches her leave and then sinks back against the bed, turning his head towards Jace and focusing his mind inward.

_ Wake up _ , he tries, squeezing Jace’s hand as he tries to nudge the message through their bond as gently as possible.  _ Jace. Wake up. Come on. _

The only response he gets is a deep sense of fatigue. He tries a few more times and then gives up, spending a long moment just staring at the ceiling.

Waiting and resting, it is.

 

* * *

 

Jace wakes up about an hour after Izzy tells Alec that the Clave delegation has left, with Valentine and the rest of the Circle suitably subdued and decked out in chains. His first question after he and Alec have been untied from each other is whether Clary is okay. After Izzy assures him that, yes, she’ll be fine, and no, he can’t see her right now because she’s still unconscious, the two of them are finally able to fill him in on what’s going on.

Jace is remarkably quiet through all of it, keeping his eyes fixed on a spot on the wall and barely reacting until Izzy reaches out and pinches him hard in the upper arm.

“Ow!” Jace protests, and Alec finally feels a small spark break through the bond, followed by the warm familiarity of Jace’s presence. “What the hell, Iz?”

“What the hell, yourself,” Izzy replies, and then pinches Jace again, making sure she has his full attention. “Stop spacing out on us and tell us what’s wrong!”

Jace’s walls are back up so fast, it makes Alec a little sick. One second, their bond is thrumming quietly with energy, and the next, there’s only a blank surface, not letting anything through.

Jace turns his head away from Izzy. “I’m fine.”

“You’re clearly not,” Alec says, reaching out to steady himself as the empty feeling around his bond starts making him dizzy. “Stop blocking the bond, or you’re going to make me hurl all over your bed.”

That makes Jace look up in alarm, and Alec draws a long, measured breath in relief as the dizziness slowly fades. “Better. Thanks.”

“Jace, what’s wrong,” Izzy tries again. “Come on, just tell us. Please.”

“You shouldn’t be trusting me with information about the Clave’s operations,” Jace says finally, raising his chin. “Turns out, I’m Valentine’s son. He fooled me my entire childhood, pretending to be Michael Wayland. If it hadn’t been for Alec, I would have let him escape.”

“You don’t know that,” Alec says. “He just caught you off guard.”

“He could have killed me without even breaking a sweat the way I was handling things,” Jace argues. “A few choice words and I just froze up. Completely.”

“Hang on,” Izzy breaks in. “Valentine claimed to be your dad?”

Jace nods, a pained look in his eyes. Izzy leans forward, taking his hand. “How do you know he was telling the truth?”

“He put on my dad’s face right in front of me. And he knew things about me only my dad would know.”

Alec thinks back, tries to remember what exactly Valentine said and ends up frowning. “Wait, did he, though? Or did he just imply things?”   

“Well, either way, there’s a simple way to find out for sure,” Izzy says, and then walks over to a cabinet in the corner, pulling out the top drawer and coming back to them with a syringe in hand. “Arm, please.”

“What good is that going to do?” Jace protests as Izzy draws a vial of his blood. “You and Alec just told me Valentine has been moved to the City of Bones. Do you really think the Clave will let you near him to do a blood test?”

“I don’t need Valentine, we have both Jocelyn and Clary right here at the Institute,” Izzy replies easily. “There, all done. Alec, heal that for me, please? I’ll go get a sample from Clary to match against and run these straight away.”

She leaves the room, leaving both Alec and Jace looking after her.

Silence stretches out between them, growing steadily more uncomfortable until Jace suddenly says, “I want to get our memories back.”

Alec looks up back at him, startled. “Why?”

“I’ve never wanted a relationship before,” Jace says quickly, his words tumbling over each other as though he’s afraid slowing down will make him lose his nerve. “Whenever someone I was with tried to go for something deeper, there was just always this…  _ block _ , something holding me back—I don’t know how to describe it. If Clary really is my sister—” He does stop for a second at that, wincing at the word. “—then something’s clearly wrong with me. And if she isn’t, then…” He breaks off, looking away.  

“I just need to know,” he continues quietly. “I don’t  _ want _ to, but I can’t go through life with something I don’t remember hanging over my head and always holding me back.”

“You think our… past is doing that?”

“Don’t you?” Jace counters, looking back at him and raising an eyebrow in challenge. The “yes” is at the tip of Alec’s tongue automatically, the habit of agreeing with Jace ingrained in him to the point where he normally doesn’t even stop to think about it.

But then he makes himself pause anyway, breaking away from Jace’s eyes to create a little bit of space between them, trying to filter out his own thoughts and feelings from those of his  _ parabatai _ .

“Before, in the Labyrinth, when you tried to kiss me, that was really shitty of you,” he says at last, holding up a hand to forestall any attempt Jace might make at a protest. “I swore to myself I’d never tell you this, but the year after our thing apparently happened fundamentally sucked for me. I filled in the form to request a transfer to a different institute three times in the first six months—even though I knew it wouldn’t even do me any good because we’re  _ parabatai, _ and your soul is literally tied to mine. I really don’t want to go through that again.”

He doesn’t see the look on Jace’s face, but then he doesn’t need to; the wave of pain and guilt that floods the bond is staggering in its intensity, and while pain for Jace, at least in part, automatically translates to pain for Alec, too, it’s also strangely cathartic, somehow. 

He clears his throat, keeping his eyes firmly on a spot on the wall opposite him. “I feel like… there’s a locked door inside my head. But I know what’s behind it. I can’t  _ see _ it, but I still know. And yeah, part of me wants to know the details, but mostly, I just want to move on.”

“Alec...”

“I’m sorry, Jace, I can’t do this right now,” Alec says, pushing himself to his feet. The feedback from the bond continues to overwhelm him as he quickly walks out of the infirmary.

Jace doesn’t try calling him back.

 

* * *

 

The rest of Alec’s day continues to be absolutely gruelling. On top of the mountains of paperwork that have materialised on his desk, there are calls to and from the Clave to handle, fire messages to send and mourning rites to be organised for the people they lost in the battle.

Also, Magnus isn’t answering his texts, and as the hours go by, Alec gets increasingly worried.

He goes through his tasks mostly on autopilot, and has never been more grateful to have Izzy at his side. Clary is still unconscious, and Jace moves back and forth between the room she’s in and Alec’s office, quietly helping out with whatever Alec or Izzy puts into his hands, but without really meeting either of their eyes.

When the evening shift goes on at eight, Alec’s reached his limit. He clocks out and goes running in an attempt to clear his head. Less than ten minutes in, his feet take him over to a nearby subway stop and onto a train bound for Brooklyn.

The front door to Magnus’ loft opens on its own when Alec touches the handle, followed by a slight pulse in the air around him as the wards part to let him in.

The loft feels strangely barren without Magnus there; there’s a vibrancy and a warmth that’s just… missing somehow. Alec walks through the rooms, one by one, until he ends up in Magnus’ bedroom. The bed is perfectly made, soft satin sheets weighed down with a small mountain of pillows. Alec lets his body move on its own accord, propelling him forward until his knees hit the edge of the bed and his body slumps down on it. He takes out his phone and opens his text conversation with Magnus for what feels like the hundredth time. The messages he sent through the day are still sitting there, marked read, but unanswered. Alec sighs.

He must fall asleep, because the next thing he’s aware of is a hand touching his shoulder, shaking him gently awake.

Alec practically catapults himself up to sitting, and when he sees Magnus sitting there next to him, he pulls him in for a tight hug, burying his face against Magnus’ shoulder. After a split second of surprise, Magnus hugs him back, and Alec feels like, for the first time since he woke up, he’s able to fully breathe.

“I’m sorry I didn’t call you back,” Magnus murmurs against his throat. 

Alec shakes his head and presses himself even closer. “I’m just glad you’re okay.”

Magnus sags against him at that, and Alec moves them both down on top of the bed, slotting their legs together so that they’re touching with every part of their bodies. He closes his eyes and breathes in the smell of Magnus’ hair, letting Magnus’ body heat draw the stress and tension of the day from his muscles. 

It should scare him, he thinks, how quickly and recklessly he’s letting himself fall. The situation surrounding them is chaotic at best—uncertain, stressful and downright life-threatening for both of them on a daily basis. It’s a terrible, risky time to build a relationship—even without taking Alec’s messed up bond and their magic problem into account—and if Alec were smart about it, he’d try to, at least, pull them back to where they started, when the offer on the table was for casual fun, and little else. 

He should disentangle himself from Magnus, get out of bed and go back to the Institute. Instead, he buries his face more fully in Magnus’ hair and can’t even pretend to regret his decision.

He’s almost fallen asleep again, when Magnus is the one who starts to carefully pull away, effectively bringing Alec back to wakefulness. 

“Magnus? What—?”

“Shhh, go back to sleep,” Magnus replies, leaning in and pressing his lips to the side of Alec’s head before pulling further away. “I just need to double-check something and get a bite to eat. I’ll be back shortly.”

“Hang on, let me—” Alec starts, pushing himself up to sitting and stifling a yawn with his hand. “I haven’t eaten all day either. Go take care of what you need to and I’ll fix us some food.”

“That’s sweet, but you really don’t have to.”

“I want to,” Alec says simply. “Go, take care of business. I’ll see what I can whip up.” 

He gets out of bed and walks out of Magnus’ bedroom, looking back over his shoulder to see Magnus watching him with a bemused but definitely pleased smile on his face. Once in the kitchen, he quickly checks his phone—just to make sure—and then starts looking through the fridge and cupboards, humming softly to himself.

He’s in the middle of frying up some chicken he found, together with some mushrooms and strips of bacon, when Magnus walks into the kitchen, coming up behind him and putting his hands on Alec’s hips as he pushes himself up slightly to place his chin on Alec’s shoulder.

“That smells good.”

“I saw you had some cream in the fridge too, so I was just going to put that in and make a pasta sauce,” Alec replies. “I think the water’s almost at a boil. Could you put the noodles in, please?”

Magnus gamely moves to the side, reaching for the package of spaghetti Alec found and pulling out enough for two servings. He adds the pasta to the pot on the stove, sets a timer, and then moves back to his original position, this time letting his arms wrap around Alec’s waist.

“Anything else I can do?” One of Magnus’ hands slips down to the edge of Alec’s shirt, then beneath it, stroking a slow circle just above the top of Alec’s pants with his fingers. 

Alec very narrowly avoids burning himself on the stove. Magnus seems to take his reaction as encouragement, because his other hand slips beneath Alec’s shirt as well, light touches dancing across Alec’s abs.

Alec tries and fails to suppress a shiver as the hands move from his stomach up to his chest. “Food’ll be ready in ten minutes.”

“I love the way you feel under my hands,” Magnus mumbles in response, and Alec’s knees go a little weak as Magnus punctuates the statement by pressing his lips against the nape of Alec’s neck. “Cat kicked me out of the war room and told me to go back here and get some sleep. But this is so much nicer than sleeping.”

Alec closes his eyes and leans back against Magnus’ frame, losing himself in the touch. Magnus presses another couple of kisses to the back of his neck, and then wraps his arms tightly around Alec’s midsection, his head slumping down to rest against Alec’s shoulder blade. “God, I’m so tired.”

Alec puts his free hand on top of Magnus’ and shifts his weight to either foot, rocking them gently from side to side. “Food first. Then you can sleep for as long as you want.”

“I wish,” Magnus replies, a hint of bitterness creeping into his voice. “You’d think the Clave would be grateful to have Valentine finally under control instead of throwing a tantrum over how some of the magic used to stop him technically violates the Accords, but no. I’d be sorely tempted to turn Dieudonne into something small and slimy if I wasn’t so exhausted.”

Alec stiffens at that, remembering Izzy’s words from earlier. “What exactly did they do?”

“Just threw their weight around, mostly,” Magnus replies. “Tessa handled it. She’s good at making people offers they can’t refuse.”

“Who was it?”

“Dieudonne; bunch of other Council members; Herondale and her ilk; some extra muscle to push their very unsubtle points across. That Lydia girl who’s monitoring your Institute showed up as well.” Magnus breaks off, shaking his head. “She’s both impressive and a bit scary.”

“Yeah, I agree. I’m just relieved she seems to like me,” Alec replies, sighing. “Okay, food’s done. You want to eat in here or somewhere else?”

“Let’s take it and sit on the couch,” Magnus says. “I don’t know about you, but I find I have a sudden, terrible need to escape my life through reality TV.”

 

* * *

 

Alec falls asleep somewhere between one mother crying in front of the cameras “in shame”, outraged that her daughter wants to buy a “sexy” wedding dress, and another mother trying to guilt her daughter into buying a dress that is almost entirely see-through. When he wakes up again, he’s being gently jostled off of Magnus’ body and onto the couch, the sound of Magnus’ phone ringing happening far too close to his left ear.

_ “Yes, Raphael, what it is?” _ he hears Magnus mumble, his warm body moving away from Alec’s as he gets off the couch. 

There’s a stunned moment of silence. Then, Magnus’ voice again.  _ “You can  _ **_what_ ** _?” _

Alec sighs inwardly and mentally starts preparing himself to get out of bed.

_ “I’m on my way,” _ he hears Magnus say, followed by quick footsteps fading away, heading in the direction of Magnus’ bedroom.

“What’s the situation?” Alec asks, once Magnus comes back, hands still working on buttoning a brocade vest over a fresh shirt. 

Magnus looks startled at finding him awake, but recovers quickly. He moves over to Alec, taking the hand Alec is extending towards him and giving it a small squeeze. “I’ll tell you once I know. I’m sorry, but I have to run. Can I make it up to you later? I don’t know how long this will take.”

“Yeah, of course.” Alec gets off the couch and starts looking for the socks he apparently lost sometime during the night. “Unless you want some backup?”

“I’m fine. But thank you. It’s kind of you to offer.”

Before Alec has a chance to try and convince him, magic is flowing from Magnus’ hand, opening up a portal.

“I’ll call you as soon as I can,” Magnus promises apologetically, and then he’s gone in a swirl of light.

Alec lies back down on the couch and closes his eyes for a moment. His body is signalling that it would like nothing better than to get a few more hours of sleep, but his head is already up and running, pulling item after item from the long list of things that need his attention towards the front of his mind. 

He sits back up with a sigh, reaching for his phone that’s charging on a nearby side table.

Might as well get an early start.

 

* * *

 

“Alec! There you are. Finally!”

Alec almost jumps at the sound. At the other end of his office, his parents get up from their seats and come towards him. His mother reaches him first, grabbing his upper arms and looking him over from head to toe.

“You look tired and pale. Activate your alertness rune while your father pours us all some coffee.” She moves her hands up to his head, trying to smooth down his hair. 

Alec backs away, swatting ineffectively at her. “Stop trying to fix my hair. And what are you two doing here? You’re supposed to be in Idris.”

His mom’s face darkens. “Yes, you certainly arranged that nicely, didn’t you?”

Alec takes another step away from her, clasping his hands behind his back and straightening his spine. He made his decision; now he’ll just have to ride it all out. “I did what needed to be done. It was in the Institute’s best interest.”

“Was it?” his mother snaps angrily back at him. “I’m disappointed in you, Alec. We raised you better than this.”

“You raised me to be the Head of this institute,” Alec replies, keeping his voice as detached and even as he’s able. “I’ve achieved that. Jace and I are in charge, and the Clave is more than happy with our leadership so far.”

His mother looks like she’s ready to explode. Alec braces himself.

“Okay, let’s not lose our heads,” his dad cuts in, moving in between them and handing each of them a cup of coffee. “Maryse, remember what we talked about. Yelling at each other isn’t going to solve anything.”

He turns to Alec with a careful, concerned expression on his face.  “Alec, is there a—man? In your life? Is that the reason you wanted us out of the way, that you were afraid we would try to put a stop to things if we found out?”

Alec stiffens. The image of Magnus’ smile rises unbidden in his mind. “I don’t see how that’s any of your business.” 

“You’re our son and the heir to this institute!” his mom hisses. “You have a duty to this family—to our reputation, and that’s—”

“What your mother is trying to say,” his dad breaks in again, “is that we’re all in this together. The three of us, Izzy, Max, and Jace. It’s not only your future that’s on the line. We need to make these decisions as a family.”

“We don’t care whatever…  _ liaisons _ you engage in on your own time,” his mother adds, primly. “But if you are... involved with someone, there’s even more reason for us to put a proper alliance in place. People talk, and if even a rumour of this gets out, then—”

“Then  _ I’ll _ be the one dealing with it,” Alec interrupts, feeling his anger rise. “And don’t you dare bring Izzy or Max into this again.”

“Alec, your mother and I just want to help you. We—”

“No, you just want to sweep something  _ you _ see as a problem back under the rug,” Alec says bluntly, forcing himself to keep his relaxed stance and not give into the urge to cross his arms in front of him. “I’m the Head of this institute,  _ and _ I’m gay. I’m not saying I’m planning on organising a parade anytime soon, but I’m not going to hide either. If— _ when _ —I feel myself to be in a long-term committed relationship, my partner will be officially introduced and welcomed here. And I’ll expect everyone at  _ my _ institute to show him the same respect as they would a woman.” He stops for another moment and looks both his parents in the eye, to make sure what he’s saying is really sinking in. “And if either of you have a problem with that, then I suggest you  _ deal with it _ .” 

Stunned silence from both his parents follow his statement. Alec resists the need to look away as the tension in the room grows thick and uncomfortable. He counts in his head to have something to focus on other than the way his dad can’t quite meet his eye or how his mom looks like she’s on the verge of tears from holding back her anger and disappointment.

Everything inside of him is screaming. He still doesn’t fold. Both of his parents start talking at once, threats mixing with arguments, questions and outright pleas. 

Alec still doesn’t fold.

“So this is your choice?” his mother says at last. “Breaking with tradition. Risking everything this family’s worked for.”

Alec swallows, trying to hold back the spark of desperate hope that ignites from the note of resignation he can hear in her voice. “I’m a good leader, and I have a great team. I’ll take my chances.”

His mother looks at him for the longest time, before  _ finally _ breaking away and turning towards her husband.

“Well, then,” she says, “guess there’s nothing more to add. We’ll check in on Izzy and Jace, and then we’ll head on back to Idris.”

“You do that,” Alec replies, immensely grateful to whatever angel is listening that his voice doesn’t break. 

“You’re our  _ son _ ,” his mom says, taking a step closer and putting a burning hand on Alec’s arm. “We just want what’s best for you.”

Alec manages a terse nod. “I know.”

“You’re our pride and joy, and we love you. If you need our help...”

“I know. Love you too.”

“Alec,  _ please _ .”

“Bye, mom. Please say hi to Max from me?”

His dad moves up and puts a hand on the small of his mom’s back, clearing his throat as he pulls her gently away. “Of course, son. We’ll talk soon. Come on, Maryse. We need to get going.”

“Bye, dad.”

His parents leave the office. Alec manages to keep himself together until the door closes behind them and then just lets his body slowly sink down the wall until he’s on the floor, curling his arms around his knees. His entire body shakes as he lets the tension go, their words still echoing inside his head.

It’s done, properly this time.

Part of him still wants to call them back.


	16. Moving On

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> New discoveries, new alliances, and maybe a new start.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IT IS COMPLETE! \o/
> 
> I'm so happy! It feels so great to have finished this. AND in time for season 2B as well, which is awesome, because new episodes always make me want to think and write about what happened there instead of focusing on projects that I already have. XD
> 
> All the love and massive thank yous to my great betas: fannyT and letswastetimehere, who have been with me every step of the way. Also to everyone who has cheerlead this fic, on tumblr or in the comments here on AO3. I appreciate every single one of you so much. THANK YOU. <3
> 
> Also, please feel free to leave requests for extras! Either in the comments here or on my [tumblr.](http://actuallyredorchid.tumblr.com/)
> 
> Last chapter. Please enjoy.

“Alright,” Izzy tells Jace, “do you want the good news first, or the bad news?”

It’s early afternoon the second day after the battle, and Alec is, almost literally, dead on his feet. He’s been in meeting after meeting after meeting, everyone clamouring for his attention and pulling him in a dozen directions at once. He’s barely managed to wolf down the odd snack, let alone sleep for any longer than a few minutes at a time. All in all, it doesn’t do great things for his patience. Especially not after having just trekked across half of Manhattan to meet Izzy, Jace and a newly-awakened Clary in a nondescript mundane coffee shop.

“Just spit it out, Izzy, will you?” he says, then immediately winces at himself. “Sorry.”

“If you don’t go and get some rest after we’re done here, I’ll drop you with a roundhouse kick,” Izzy replies sweetly. She turns to Jace, who is sitting next to Clary, both of them looking tense and apprehensive. “You’re not brother and sister. Valentine’s not your father, Jace.”

Relief practically floods through the bond, and Alec leans closer to Jace on instinct, putting a hand on his shoulder briefly to steady both of them.

Jace clears his throat, looking back at Izzy with a desperate gleam of hope in his eyes. “You’re sure?”

“Unless the Soul Sword was wrong about him being _Clary’s_ father, then yes. DNA test shows the two of you don’t have any parents in common.”

“Oh thank God,” Clary says. She looks over at Jace, and a smile spreads across her face. “Because that would have sucked. So bad.”

“Tell me about it,” Jace says, shifting a little closer to her. Then his head snaps up, and his focus is back on Izzy. “Wait. You said good news first. What’s the bad news?”

“It’s not bad news per se,” Izzy hedges, which definitely doesn’t bode well.

“What is it?”

“I need to run more analyses. It could be a false positive.”

“Izzy, just tell us,” Clary says, and Alec watches as she reaches out and takes Jace’s hand in hers, weaving their fingers tightly together. “Whatever it is, we can take it.”

“Okay,” Izzy replies. “Just keep in mind that this shouldn’t even be possible.” She takes a deep breath and looks around to make sure no one in the coffee shop is paying them any attention, and lowers her voice. “You both have angel blood.”

Alec frowns in confusion. Next to him, both Jace and Clary are sporting similar expressions.

“Yeah, we… know that,” Jace says slowly. “We’re both Nephilim, remember?”

“No. Not angel blood as in Shadowhunter blood with angel properties,” Izzy replies quietly. “ _Pure_ angel blood. As in from an actual angel.”

There’s a long moment of shocked silence. Alec feels Izzy’s words all the way through his core, a cold thread of disbelief mixed with fear coiling itself up his spine.

“That’s impossible,” Jace says, taking this words right out of Alec’s mouth. “No one’s seen an angel for hundreds of years.”

“I know,” Izzy replies. “And if Valentine has one he’s able to draw enough blood from to experiment on at least two Shadowhunters, then that’s ten times more catastrophic than anything we’ve been preparing for.”

“Why?” Clary interjects, looking between the three of them. “I thought angels were supposed to be the good guys. Are you saying Valentine might have been working with one?”

“What? No!” Jace protests. “An angel would never do that. They’re beings of pure light; Valentine’s a psycho who likes to go around and kill people.”

“But their mission is to kill demons, right?” Clary argues. “And Downworlders all have some demonic qualities to them. I’m just saying—it’s not right or fair in any way, but you could make a case for it.”

“It doesn’t work like that,” Izzy tells her. “It’s far more likely that Valentine’s figured out a way to keep an angel captive. Which should be impossible, in and of itself.”

“Okay? And that means… what, exactly?”

“Power,” Jace replies simply. “The angel properties in our blood is what makes us able to draw runes, work with adamas, move and fight the way we do. Every new generation of Shadowhunters loses a little bit of that power as we become further and further removed from the first Shadowhunters that were created. Now, imagine skipping back to the start.”

“There are legends about Shadowhunters that moved too fast for demons to touch them,” Izzy adds. “People with healing touch, who could make indestructable weapons, manipulate minds—things only the Silent Brothers and Iron Sisters can do to some degree today.”

“And you’re saying that we—that _me and Jace_ —could… what? Have some sort of secret powers?” Clary asks. She turns around, looking excitedly at the three of them. “Guys, I know this is a shock for you, but think about it? It could be a good thing, right?”

“Or very, very bad!” Izzy replies. “Clary, we don’t know what Valentine did to the two of you, or if there are others.”

“Either way, we have to report this to the Clave,” Alec says, reaching for his phone. “If Valentine has access to an angel, he could throw the entire balance off between the shadow world and the mundane one.”

“They’ll never believe us,” Jace replies. “Hell, _I’m_ not sure I believe us, and I just heard it straight from Izzy’s mouth.”

“They’ll have to. How else do you explain that you and Clary have both ended up with pure angel blood in your system? Dumb luck?”

“I don’t know!” Jace exclaims, and Alec feels a mix of confusion and fear surge through their bond. “I don’t know, Alec, okay? Everything is like looking in a funhouse mirror right now, and I’m not even sure what’s real anymore.” He puts his head against his balled-up hands in frustration. “ _Fuck._ ”

“You could say that again,” Izzy agrees. “But, Alec, we can’t tell the Clave. No way.”

“What?” Alec pulls himself out of the thoughts of procedure and tasks that have automatically started up in his head. “Izzy, we have to! The Clave has to know. The general security level at all institutes has to be raised at the very least.”

“And then what?” Izzy counters. She reaches out and swiftly picks the phone out of Alec’s hand. “Alec, think about this. You’ve been in the same meetings as the rest of us. The battle caused a power vacuum, and everyone— _especially the Clave_ —is scrambling to fill it, trying to project strength. If we report this, Jace and Clary will be locked away in the City of Bones before you can even file the report.”

“She’s right,” Jace says, and there’s a hint of rising panic coming from him that makes Alec immediately turn towards him. “Alec, this is way bigger than just Valentine. The Clave would do anything in their power to sweep this under the mat to keep the Downworld from finding out. Like you said, an actual angel on earth? Shadowhunters with a direct blood connection to it? It could completely destroy any balance that’s left.”  

Alec looks from him to Izzy and then helplessly back again, his stomach sinking. “Jace, come on.”

“You know we’re right,” Jace says. “I know this is asking a lot, but I’m asking. _We’re_ asking. Don’t report it.”

The sinking feeling in Alec’s stomach grows. “What if people get hurt? And if we don’t report it and the Clave finds out—we’d be exiled and de-runed. And that’s if we’re lucky.”

Jace nods, then looks up again, his eyes holding Alec’s steadily. “Well. _Facilis descensus averni._ ”

The corner of his mouth twists upward, and the tension between them cracks and breaks, the dread in Alec’s gut falling back in favour of amused disbelief as he looks back and forth between his sister and his _parabatai_.

He crosses his arms and leans back slightly in his chair, rolling his eyes. “Okay, both of you officially suck. You’re off my Christmas list for the next couple of years, at least.”

“What? Why? What just happened?” Clary cuts in. “Jace, what did you say?”

“It’s something we used to say when we were younger, especially when we snuck out to go on missions we weren’t supposed to be on,” Alec replies. “Jace thinks he’s clever, bringing it back up now.”

“It’s the Shadowhunter creed,” Izzy informs her. “It means: _the descent into hell is easy_.”

“And it conveniently leaves out the second part, that getting back up to heaven again is much harder work,” Alec says, to which Jace only grins.

“Well, it might get easier, now that you have some bona fide angel blood in your corner.”

Alec narrows his eyes. “Too soon.”

Then he turns to Izzy. “You’re sure you want to do this?”

“It’s what needs to be done,” Izzy replies. She leans across the table and grabs one of his hands, giving it a quick squeeze. “Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me yet; everything just got a hell of a lot more complicated,” Alec replies, squeezing her hand back. He lifts his other hand and pulls it through his hair, taking a deep breath.

“At least if we crash and burn, we’ll all be in it together,” Jace quips, reaching out to slide an arm around Clary’s shoulders, bringing her more fully into their group.

 

* * *

 

There’s a knock on his door later that night, when Alec is just about to throw in the towel and call it a night. He’s got three missed calls from Magnus that he still hasn’t returned—too focused on digging deeper into the huge pile of Clave correspondence that keeps growing on his desk.

“Enter!”

Luke opens the door and walks into the room, placing his hand on the top of the backrest of the chair in front of Alec’s desk and leaning against it.

“It’s a really nice evening out.”

“Okay?”

“Izzy told me you’d been holed up here all day,” Luke continues. “I thought I’d stop by and offer you to join me on my run. There’s a track around Central Park that the mundanes haven’t found yet. And I need a Shadowhunter chaperone to make sure I can get back into the Institute afterwards. What do you say?”

He gives Alec a meaningful look and carefully tilts his head in the direction of one of the book cases. The one that has the office surveillance camera sitting on top of it. It only records video, not sound, same as all the other surveillance equipment in the Institute, but the resolution is more than good enough to read lips, if someone really wanted to.

Alec puts down his pen and shuffles the papers he was working on into a neat pile, making a point to sigh demonstratively. “I can give you thirty minutes.”

“Plenty of time,” Luke replies. “Go get changed; I’ll meet you outside.”

 

* * *

 

“I had an interesting conversation with some of the people from the Consul’s office yesterday,” Luke says, as soon as they’ve made it into the park and started putting some distance between themselves and the entrance. “Figured it’d be good if you and I discussed some of the things that were said.”

Alec nods, lengthening his stride a little, pushing his body forward. “Such as?”

“The Council is ordering Jocelyn and—through her—Clary back to Idris. They want to put the Silent Brothers on the case to figure out how to wake her if they can’t get the warlock who created the spell to cooperate. I’ve been offered to tag along.”

“That’s… pretty untraditional of them. Are you going to take it?”

“I doubt they really mean it,” Luke replies. “Look, I don’t regret making a deal with the Clave. It helped save people and stop Valentine. To be honest, I was placing my bets on the possibility that Ragnor wouldn’t be found. I knew him from back when Jocelyn and I were in the Academy, and he was a recluse already then. And Magnus was telling me the other night how he’d gone underground and wasn’t replying to any of his messages, so I figured the odds were as good as they’d get.”

He pulls ahead on the path, running faster to put a little bit of distance between them as Alec turns the information over in his head.

“That can’t be the whole deal,” Alec finds himself saying a little later, catching up with Luke so that they’re running side by side again. “Lydia did a complete one-eighty after whatever you told her. That implies intel that is a lot bigger than just one warlock.”

Luke keeps his face carefully blank. “Maybe. But right now, I think both of our focus need to be on bigger things.”

“What kind of things?”

“The Downworld is splitting into factions,” Luke says. “I don’t know how much Magnus has told you, but from where I’m standing, it’s not looking good. The warlocks are closing themselves off, and the vamps are siding with them and acting like a buffer. The Clave is making matters worse by trying to bully them into compliance, and the Seelies are unnervingly quiet. It could all turn ugly really fast.”

Alec presses his lips tightly together. The path beneath their feet turns a little muddy as they come down the end of a downward slope, both of them having to duck to avoid a few low-hanging branches as they press on forward.

“Look, I know the Clave is being difficult right now,” he ventures. “A lot of bad blood is coming to the surface on all sides, now that the immediate threat of Valentine’s been neutralised.”

Luke scoffs. “You can say that again. Imogen Herondale, for one, is definitely out for blood. From any present and former Circle member. Me, especially, if she can get it.”

Alec frowns. “Why you?”

“I was Valentine’s second in command, and I recruited her son, Stephen. We were childhood friends, so I helped him rise through the ranks of the Circle. He, his wife and their one-year-old son were kidnapped and killed by rogue vampires shortly after I was turned. They never found the bodies.”

“And you think Valentine arranged it?”

“I’m sure of it,” Luke replies. “I mean, I wasn’t there when it happened, but it’s definitely his style. Jocelyn told me there were rumours that Stephen wanted to get out, after what happened to me. Valentine’s not a man to take betrayal lightly.”

“I’ll bet.”

“I have a feeling things will move around a lot in the next few weeks,” Luke says, slowing his gait until they both come to a stop. “So I wanted to reach out to you, properly—the head of one faction to another.” He makes a pause, meeting Alec’s eyes with a steady gaze. “What do you say? Allies?”

He holds out his hand. Alec quickly weighs the offer in his mind, and then reaches forward. They’re standing in the middle of a grove of trees in Central Park, both of them in running clothes, but there’s nothing informal about the situation as they shake hands to confirm their agreement.

“Thank you,” Luke says, as they let go of each other. “I appreciate the confidence.”

“Likewise,” Alec replies. “And thank you for fighting with us at the Labyrinth. I’m sorry about the people you lost.”

“Same to you. I have to tell you, I wasn’t sure you’d be on board with this. Magnus and Raphael both shut me down pretty hard.”

Alec does his best to keep his face neutral. That’s a piece of information Magnus hasn’t shared with him yet. At the same time, considering how firmly the warlocks are pushing back against the Clave, he can’t say he’s overly surprised at hearing it.

“Like you said before the battle, we each have our people to protect,” he replies. “The warlocks took a huge hit; I don’t blame them for wanting to isolate themselves for some time.”

“It might cause you a fair bit of trouble though. Both on a personal and a professional level.”

Alec shoots him back a look of disbelief. “Says the Alpha with a Shadowhunter family.”

Luke cracks a smile. “Touché. Still, it’s not an easy life, and I know you guys pretty much just met. So it might be something you’ll want to think about before things start getting serious. A lot of people are going to want to use a relationship like that against you.”

That much is a given. Alec nods in recognition of a warning well meant, but files it away almost immediately. He knows he’s walking a political tightrope, and likely will for some time. Then again, the only way down from it is back into the small space Clave tradition has carved out for him, and back to living a lie for the rest of his life.

It might be stupid; it’s definitely reckless.

He still wants it, with a force that almost scares him sometimes.

“I guess I’ll cross that bridge when I get to it,” he says, then steps back a little and gestures towards the path they came down. “We should start heading back to the Institute. People will wonder where we’ve disappeared to.”

 

* * *

 

_Message from: Magnus, 1:46 AM_

_Outside the Institute. Need to see you._

Alec reads the message again as he half-jogs down the front steps of the Institute, trying to look like he’s leaving for a regular mission while his eyes scan the surroundings. He spots Magnus through the window of a small bar on the opposite side of the street and makes his way over.

“Magnus. I got your message; what’s wrong?”

Instead of voicing a reply, Magnus puts down the glass he’s holding and slides a hand around the back of Alec’s head, pulling his head down for a kiss that leaves ‘hello’ in the dust and goes directly into hot and heavy.

Alec’s hands go around Magnus’ waist on instinct, a small groan escaping him as Magnus pulls them flush together. They haven’t shared a proper kiss like this since before the battle, the political situation around both of them since having been too crazy to allow either of them any real time away from their duties. He tightens his hold on Magnus’ waist and gives himself over to sensation; the kiss doesn’t so much deepen as it positively soars, the heat of it sweeping through every part of Alec’s body, his heart, his mind, narrowing his focus down until Magnus is all that he can think of.

Someone jokingly calling out to them to get a room makes him jerk back to reality. He pulls away from the kiss and grabs Magnus’ wrists to push them apart, creating a few inches of crucial space between their bodies.

“Hey. Hey, Magnus, wait. You okay?”

“Mmm, definitely starting to be,” Magnus replies, leaning in again to press a row of slow kisses to the side of Alec’s neck. “I’ve missed you terribly. Want to go back to my place?”

There’s something off about his voice. Alec breaks away again and looks at him more closely. There’s an inviting smile on Magnus’ lips that doesn’t quite reach his eyes, and there’s tension in his shoulders that gives Alec further pause. He looks around; the bar they’re in is packed with people, mundanes pressing in from every side—hardly optimal for conversation.

Alec quickly weighs his options and then reaches down to grab Magnus’ hand. “Yeah, come on.”

Some of the tension drains from Magnus’ body, his steps quick and sure as he leads Alec out of the bar and into a nearby alleyway. His mouth is back on Alec’s before the portal is even fully formed, and Alec isn’t sure if it’s the magic or Magnus’ touch that’s making everything spin as they stagger through it together, falling out in a tangle of limbs on the other side, onto the thick carpet on Magnus’ living room floor.

For a few, glorious moments, the outside world is lost in the heat of their bodies moving together, kisses growing increasingly bold. Magnus’ hands come alive with blue magic, and Alec gasps as his clothes start literally melting off his body, liquefying and breaking apart, tickling his sides as they drip down to pool on the floor and shimmer out of existence.

Magnus moves his lips down to the side of Alec’s throat, shifting his weight and rolling them over. Every touch is mind-numbingly, dangerously good, and it takes all of Alec’s slipping self-control to keep his head together and force himself to pull away.

“Magnus, wait. Let’s talk about this.”

“I don’t feel like talking right now,” Magnus replies breathlessly, meeting Alec’s eyes and raising an eyebrow in silent challenge as he sends his magic dancing down the front of his own shirt, popping open the row of buttons. “I’ve done nothing but talk for days, and it’s only resulting in dead ends. I need a break. With your schedule, I bet you could use one too.”

Alec watches helplessly as Magnus’ shirt moves out of the way, leaving naked, golden-brown skin in its wake.

“You’re not playing fair.”

“Who says I’m playing at all?” Magnus asks, making Alec groan as another small burst of magic has the button and zip of his pants come undone. One hand moves down to sweep the rest of his clothes out of the way while the other comes up in front of his body, drawing Alec’s attention to a thin, golden bracelet circling his wrist. “I solved our magic problem. My friend Ragnor had these among the many artifacts in his possession.”

Alec reaches out despite his better judgement and traces the smooth metal with his fingers. “What are they?”

“Shielding bracelets. They’ll stop my magic from drawing on your essence, and from letting your essence in if it tries to get too close,” Magnus replies, then twists his wrist so that Alec’s hand ends up in his. “What do you say we try them out?”

Alec swallows and closes his eyes, trying and failing to remember why he shouldn’t press Magnus back into the floor and get them started on fucking each other blind.

“Magnus, this isn’t the time; we’re in the middle of a war,” he tries, even as his hand closes its grip on Magnus’ and starts pulling him closer.

“There’ll always be a war,” Magnus replies, and then does what Alec can’t and stops them both from closing the last bit of distance. “But if you fail to grant time for the things you care about, you’ll forget why you’re even fighting at all.”

His breath is coming faster than normal, his brown eyes clouded with arousal and even darker than Alec is used to seeing them. Alec doesn’t need to look down to know that Magnus is hard; his own cock twitches in anticipation as he runs his hands along the warm skin of Magnus’ arm.

What tips the scale, however, is the way Magnus is holding himself back, as though he needs Alec to meet him halfway in order to take the leap himself. Alec closes his eyes and leans in, letting their lips hover over each other for a trembling, suspended moment before closing the gap. It’s a light kiss, almost chaste compared to others they have shared, but it still manages to travel through Alec’s bloodstream like fire, burning away whatever was between them up until now and leaving something new and fragile in its wake.

“So, um, these things are kind of like magical protection, right?” Alec manages, when they finally break apart, taking the hand that has ended up clutching at Magnus’ shoulder and bringing it to the bracelet around his wrist.

“I guess?” Magnus raises an eyebrow at him, as though wondering where Alec is going with that particular question.

Alec swallows again, then clears his throat for good measure. “What about the, um, regular kind?” 

Magnus’ smile is blinding as he pulls them both to their feet, and then starts walking Alec backwards, in the direction of the bedroom. “I’ve got us covered on that count too.”

 

* * *

 

“Tell me about this?” Alec asks later, as they’re lying side by side, both of them still trying to catch their breaths. He runs his index finger along the outline of Magnus’ hand, watching Magnus’ magic flare up and follow his progress to where the bracelet cuts it off, and then fall back into Magnus’ body. “What does it feel like?”

“Exhilarating,” Magnus replies, gasping as Alec moves his touch up his arm, across his shoulder and down over his sweaty chest. “And scary. My magic has been a part of me since I was born. I’m not used to feeling it slip away from me like this.”

“I like it,” Alec says. “It’s… warm. Like there’s a sparkle under your skin. I don’t know if that makes sense.”

Magnus nods, and then lets out another gasp, followed by a breathless laugh as Alec’s hand starts moving lower. “I think you might be underestimating how absolutely shattering that orgasm was for me just now.”

Alec grins, leaning down to press a kiss against the tip of Magnus’ shoulder. “I can be very, very patient.”

Magnus groans, his hips moving restlessly against the bed. Alec lets his fingers play, drawing slow spirals over Magnus’ skin, a sense of delight running through him every time he manages to hit an especially good spot, and Magnus’ magic surges up to meet his touch.

Alec leans back down and presses another kiss to Magnus’ skin. “I love kissing you. I want to kiss you all the time.”

Magnus’ hand comes up to tangle in his hair, gently massaging his scalp as he guides Alec’s lips further down his chest. “Where?”

Alec frowns, too lost in the feel and taste of Magnus’ skin to fully make sense of his words. “Where what?”

“Where do you want to kiss me?” Magnus replies. His voice has a hoarse edge to it that goes directly to Alec’s dick.

“Here,” Alec replies, touching the edge of Magnus’ jawline with his fingers, and then following with a light brush of his lips. “Here.” Magnus’ cheek. “And here.” He puts a finger to the centre of Magnus’ lower lip. 

“I’d like that,” Magnus whispers, and Alec leans in, catching Magnus’ lower lip in a slow, trembling kiss.

Magnus gasps, his lips parting and fitting themselves to Alec’s, kissing him back. One of his thighs slots itself between Alec’s, and then Magnus is rolling them over, pressing Alec back into the mattress.

They keep kissing, bodies moving easily together, still slick with sweat that hasn’t quite had time to dry after the first round. There’s no frantic need to lose themselves in pleasure this time, only them and the rhythm they build together. The sweet lethargy clinging to Alec’s body slowly morphs back into desire, flames fanned by the way Magnus is moving his hands over him, then his mouth, then—starting out oh so carefully—little teasing bursts of magic that dance across Alec’s skin.

He’s got one leg wrapped around the back of one of Magnus’, keeping their bodies together as they move their hips in slow, maddening grinds. His own cock is close to full hardness again, trapped between their stomachs, and Magnus is gradually getting there, filling up a little more every time he pushes his cock against the crease of Alec’s leg.

Little sparks of green go off at the edge of Alec’s vision as Magnus rolls them over to their sides, pressing his front to Alec’s back. Alec has a moment of panic as his skin suddenly feels too electric, and too tight; he grabs Magnus’ hand and brings it down to cover his rune, gasping in relief as Magnus’ magic rushes over him, keeping the swirling pressure inside his body in check.

Once he feels less like he’s about to break out of his own skin, he reaches down and grabs his thigh, pulling it up towards himself to give Magnus better access. He’s still slick and loose from having Magnus’ fingers inside of him earlier, so when Magnus pushes two back inside, Alec pushes his hips back to meet him, already desperate for more.

Magnus lets him set the rhythm for a while, keeping his fingers steady as Alec fucks himself back on his hand. Every now and then, the fingers curl, adding pressure to Alec’s prostrate, and Alec turns his face down into the pillows, panting as Magnus’ touch coaxes him towards the brink.

Unlike the last time—and their first together—Magnus doesn’t increase the rhythm when he notices that Alec is getting close. Instead, he rolls Alec over a little more so that he has him flat on his stomach, and slows the pace of his fingers down to a crawl.

“Magnus, _please…_ ”

Magnus keeps up the maddeningly slow rhythm for another couple of minutes and then carefully pulls his fingers out of him and shifts his weight, moving back on the bed and guiding Alec up on his hands and knees.

It’s a lucky thing he’s come once tonight already, Alec thinks, as Magnus moves in close behind him, or else the feeling of Magnus’ cock resting snugly against his ass would definitely have pushed him over the edge. Every part of his body is thrumming with energy, pleasure spreading like lazy waves wherever their bodies touch.

Magnus moves back a little more, and Alec hears the tell-tale sound of a condom wrapper being torn open. He drops back down on his forearms and and focuses on breathing, a long, broken moan leaving his throat when Magnus finally, _finally_ starts to push inside.

Magnus rocks into him, slowly at first, keeping his thrusts shallow, a firm hand coming to rest on the small of Alec’s back to keep him from moving back too fast in his need to get Magnus in deeper. A shuddering breath runs through both of them when Magnus bottoms out, and then Magnus is pulling them both backwards, shifting their weight and sitting back so that he is on his knees on the bed, with Alec firmly seated on his lap.

Alec’s head rolls back against Magnus’ shoulder, his breath coming in short pants as he starts working his hips, lifting himself up and falling back again, pleasure spiking with every thrust. He’s close enough to almost taste his orgasm far too soon, his cock aching to the point where he’s half-expecting to come untouched at any moment. He cranes his neck, finding Magnus’ lips for an open-mouthed kiss, attempting to ground himself a little.

Magnus kisses him back fervently, and groans when they break apart for air, chasing Alec’s lips for another breathless kiss. His hands move from Alec’s hips up along his sides, his arms wrapping themselves tightly around Alec’s chest as he thrusts up— _hard—_ into Alec’s body.

“I can’t believe how amazing you feel.”

Alec manages a jerky sort of nod in agreement, and then lifts his hips again. Magnus’ cock is splitting him open and putting the pieces of him back together all at once, and Alec loves the way it feels—didn’t realise how much he missed being fucked until Magnus reminded him of it just now, and can’t imagine how he ever could have forgotten it.

He moves his hips faster, falling into a smooth, rolling rhythm that makes Magnus choke on his breath and tighten his hold, his hips thrusting helplessly upward to try and follow Alec’s lead. In the position they’re in, Alec’s able to control the angle just enough to keep Magnus’ cock from hitting his prostate too often, giving himself back a sliver of focus that he uses as best he can to make Magnus come completely undone beneath him.

Magnus’ lips wander mindlessly up and down the back of his neck, stopping every now and then to suck a mark into Alec’s skin. His magic is rising to the surface as he’s getting closer and closer to orgasm, and when Alec looks down, he sees that whatever magical essence is inside of him is rising up as well, trying to meet it. The green lines running down his arms are back, unraveling and spreading like balls of string, calling out for Magnus’ magic to start knitting them together. The bracelets circling Magnus’ wrists are glowing; Alec slides his hands over them and closes his eyes, feels the steady hum of power against his palms.

He can feel the connection between them that’s trying to form, and it tugs at his heart as much as on whatever else is at the core of him. Magnus moves their right hands down wrap around his cock, magic sparking around his fingers to make their joint hold wet and slippery.

It barely takes a dozen strokes before Alec is right at the edge, and then quickly toppling over it. Magnus is panting against his neck, his left arm like a vice against Alec’s chest and his whole body trembling as Alec comes, striping their hands and his own stomach in hot, white spurts for the second time that night.

Magnus changes the movement of his hips to a deep grind that hits the perfect spot with every movement he makes, and it’s all Alec can do to just hold on to him and, very vocally, show his appreciation as Magnus fucks him through the initial pleasure, and then makes it spike again as Alec feels the hot wave of Magnus’ magic flare against his skin when Magnus finds his own release inside him.

They gradually come to a stop, holding onto each other and breathing hard. Magnus’ lips press a fervent kiss into Alec’s shoulder, then one against his jaw, and Alec cranes his neck to turn his face around enough for Magnus to find his lips as well.

Magnus makes a broken sound into their kiss, both hands coming up to tangle in Alec’s hair to pull him even closer. Alec mirrors him, not caring that at least half their hands are getting come and leftover lube pretty much everywhere—including Magnus’ hair, which Alec is pretty sure he’ll not be pleased about once the high wears off.

 _I’ll love this man until I die_.

The thought flashes through his mind and is gone again in less than a second. He clamps his mouth shut and buries his face against Magnus’ throat, because it’s far too soon for words like that—for him and Magnus both—but the truth of them still flares through his blood, and he suddenly knows, all the way down to his bones, that one day, they will have become reality.

Magnus carefully pulls out of him, flicking his fingers to banish the condom, before reaching for Alec again, lowering both of them down to the bed.

“You asked me earlier if I was okay,” he murmurs against Alec’s lips, as one of his thighs slots itself firmly into place between both of Alec’s.

“Uh-huh?”

“I wasn’t, really. Haven’t been in a long time,” Magnus admits, and Alec nods against his cheek, his arms pulling Magnus a little closer still. “But lying here with you, I have this stupid hope in my chest that, one day, I could be.”

Alec swallows against the sudden tightness that fills his throat, closing his eyes for a long moment and taking several deep breaths to calm his racing heart before he feels like he can trust himself to speak. The emotions welling up inside him are a little bit of everything—intense relief and pure joy—wholly overwhelming.  

“I wasn’t really either,” he says, pressing his forehead against Magnus’ as a smile starts to spread on his face. “And I think I could be too.”

 

* * *

 

**_THREE DAYS LATER_ **

The Silent Brothers raise their hands, and shimmering swirls of light start rising towards the ceiling.

_Hail and farewell._

Alec echoes the words together with the Shadowhunters standing behind him. A last show of respect for the fallen. Beside him, Jace’s voice comes through, strong and true, and Alec suddenly has a brief flash of another way the next few months could go—into a future where their positions have been reversed and Alec’s the one standing in Jace’s current place—one step to the right of the current Head of the New York Institute.

The next moment, the thought is pushed back again, replaced with a sense of shame over the anger and frustration that came with it. It’s not Jace’s fault how he was born, he reminds himself, even as his eyes flicker over to where Inquisitor Herondale is standing, right next to Alec’s parents in the row reserved for the Institute leaders’ families. He squares his shoulders and stands up a little straighter, putting his mind fully on the task in front of him.

A Silent Brother nods for him to move forward, holding out a the scroll to him where the names of the people they’ve lost have been recorded. Alec walks up on the dais, accepts it, says a few well-chosen words that he can’t remember as soon as they’ve left his mouth, reads out the list of names, and then goes back down to his seat.

The light fades a few minutes later, and people slowly start to disperse. Alec should go with them, he knows, step back into his role of Institute Head and start going about his day.

He makes it out of the makeshift pew before the lightness in his head gets the better of him, forcing him to stop and close his eyes, take a couple of deep breaths.

“Hey. You okay?”

Jace’s hand lands on the centre of his back, and Alec feels worry come through the bond. He manages a nod, still not quite able to feel his feet beneath him.

“Just keep on walking,” Jace tells him quietly. “One foot in front of the other. There we go.”

They make it through the first corridor, and Alec assumes Jace will split off from him there and send him on his way. The last couple of days, since they found out who Jace’s biological parents were, have been… awkward, to say the least, neither of them knowing how to deal with the drama it created.

Instead of leaving, Jace grabs his wrist and walks them through the back of the Institute until they reach the library, ushering Alec inside and closing the door behind them.

Alec frowns. “What are you doing?”

“You look like you’re about to fall over. Just sit down and take a moment, okay?”

Alec lets himself be manhandled into a chair. As soon as his body hits the padded material, he sags against it, tension he didn’t even know he was carrying slowly seeping out of his shoulders and back. “Okay. But just a minute. I’m serious, Jace, don’t let me fall asleep.”

“You got it,” Jace replies, with a hint of a smile. “Just saying, though, some rest would do you a world of good. Have you even slept in the last few days?”

Alec shakes his head, but can’t quite hide the small smirk that touches the corner of his lips. With a large part of the Council descending on the Institute to verify the discovery of Imogen Herondale’s lost grandson, he’s spent as much time at Magnus’ place as he’s been able to get away with.

“Not that much, no.”

“Too much information,” Jace says, rolling his eyes. “I mean, I’m happy for you—don’t get me wrong—but I also need to talk to you about something. And you’re not going to like it.”

Alec leans forward with a sigh. “What did you do?”

“You know how you said you just wanted to move on and not get our memories back?”

Apprehension seeps into Alec’s gut, cold and uncomfortable. “Please tell me you didn’t.”

“I didn’t summon the demon, no. But I talked to Cat about it. And Magnus.” Jace crosses his arms over his chest and looks back at Alec with a guarded look on his face.

“When?”

“This morning, when you were busy with the last preparations for the Rite of Mourning. Look, I know that you and Magnus have a thing, but don’t be mad at him for not telling you. I told him not to.”

Alec gives him a highly unimpressed look and pulls out his phone, showing Jace the missed call from Magnus that he didn’t have time to return yet. “He’s not exactly a fan of Shadowhunters telling him what he can and can’t do. Even so, why would I blame him for you trying to go behind my back? That doesn’t make any sense.”

“I wasn’t trying to go behind your back,” Jace protests. “I just needed to get some answers.”

“Answers that affect me too! That I’ve repeatedly told you _I don’t want_ ,” Alec replies angrily, pushing himself out of his chair and starting to pace in front of it. “Why do you keep pushing this?”

“Because everything is messed up between us now!” Jace throws back, angrily. “Listen, I thought we could finally have this conversation, but maybe I was wrong.”

Alex crosses his arms. “Maybe you were.”

“Fine, I’ll just go, then,” Jace replies. He turns around and starts walking towards the exit, and Alec clenches his jaw, stopping himself from acting on the urge to call him back.

He doesn’t need to, as it turns out. Halfway to the door, Jace stops, visibly takes a deep breath and then turns around, walking back towards Alec. “You know what? No, we do need to talk.”

Alec does his best to keep his face neutral. “Fine. You go first.”

A muscle tightens in Jace’s cheek. “Look, I know you think I’ve acted like a selfish asshole through all of this. And maybe I have, I don’t know.”

He looks at Alec, who gives him an unimpressed look and raises an eyebrow to signal that he should continue.

Jace rolls his eyes. “Things have been completely crazy lately, and our bond going off on top of that really threw me for a loop.” He takes a step closer. “All I know is that my life has been a lot harder, not having you to talk to.”

Alec swallows, and then gives a small nod. “Mine too.”

“It’s making me crazy not knowing how it happened,” Jace continues. “I keep asking myself what changed, how we kept it under wraps, if anyone else knew about it and got their minds wiped as well.”

He takes another small step forward, and Alec feels a shadow of the confusion and frustration Jace is feeling through their bond. He shrugs, not really knowing what else to do.

“I don’t know why it didn’t hurt me like it did you, after,” Jace says quietly. “If the spell they did on me was different or something. And I keep having this horrible, sinking feeling that it’s because of me, that I—” He breaks off, swallowing hard, and Alec suddenly know exactly what it is he can’t bring himself to say.

“You want to know if you were ever in love with me.”

Jace looks away from him, and there’s a flash of pain and guilt through the bond, strong enough to send Alec’s senses reeling.

“I never meant to hurt you, Alec. I’m sorry,” Jace says, and Alec swallows, never having known how much he actually needed Jace to tell him that until right then.

“I know,” he replies, and his voice comes out somewhat weaker than usual.

“I’m so, so sorry,” Jace repeats, his voice beginning to break as well, and Alec wants nothing more than to go to him and tell him it’s okay—to brush off Jace’s worries and make the pain just go away.

He doesn’t. Can’t. Because deep down, there’s that awful, gnawing insecurity that Jace might be completely right.

He clears his throat, drawing Jace’s eyes back to him, and then raises one arm, carefully putting a hand on Jace’s shoulder.

“Move on with me,” he says, then clears his throat again. “We made an oath to follow each other forever, so I’m asking you now. Don’t go back, _parabatai_. Come forward with me.”

Jace makes a broken sound at the back of his throat. He sways forward. Alec catches him.

“Wither thou goest, I will go,” Jace recites thickly, and something breaks in Alec’s chest, spreading through him in massive waves of relief and making everything feel impossibly lighter.

He pulls Jace into a tight hug, hiding the wetness that is beginning to sting behind his eyelids from view. The bond is humming loudly inside of him, still off balance and painful in places.

They’re not okay.

Jace hugs him back, just as tightly, and for one short moment, their hearts sync up just like they do in battle, narrowing the world around them, stripping all that’s complicated away.

Alec lets its steady beat fill him, and hugs Jace harder.

Maybe, with time, they will be again.

THE END.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I still have a lot of things in my notes that didn't make it into the final story, so those might turn into codas or similar eventually, if the mood strikes. If that interests you, please subscribe either to the SERIES this fic belongs to or directly to my PROFILE to have AO3 notify you.
> 
> Again, huge thank you to everyone who's followed this fic, and especially to all of you lovely ppl leaving kudos and comments and reccing this to your friends. Love you all. <333
> 
> Also, please feel free to leave requests for extras! Either in the comments here or on my [tumblr.](http://actuallyredorchid.tumblr.com/)

**Author's Note:**

> Comments are love! <3


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